Of Chaos and Hope
by Aldrian Kyrrith
Summary: Sequel to A Prelude to Conflict. As Teraknaar ambitions spark a second war in the Alpha Quadrant, Amanda Rogers sends the Enterprise on a nearly hopeless mission to ensure the Federation's survival. Crossover with DS9.
1. Desperation's Proposal

Of Chaos and Hope

Part II of the Sirrthi Chronicles

By Aldrian Kyrith

Chapter I: Desperation's Proposal

The Starfleet admiralty was, to say the least, thoroughly surprised when a young woman dressed in civilian clothes barged into the meeting room. Based her physical appearance, she seemed to be a teenager, approximately eighteen or nineteen years old, with long blonde hair and blue eyes. Although there seemed to be an element of desperation shining in her eyes, when she stepped in front of the brass, this impression quickly flooded away, and was replaced with a resolute fortitude. She could not fail, and she would not.

"I would suggest you explain yourself," one of the admirals warned, "Civilians are very rarely allowed access this deep into headquarters, and I doubt that you were made an exception. Who are you and why are you here?"

"I am sorry for disturbing you," she replied, "But my presence corresponds to a matter of absolute importance…"

Another admiral interrupted her, fixing the intruder with a scornful stare, "Absolute importance? I doubt you understand the very meaning of the word. We have pressing matters to attend to and would rather not waste it by entertaining your own trivialities. Perhaps you would be wiser to bring it up with the government. They, at least, might have some time to waste."

The woman was able to retain a calm expression throughout his rant, waiting patiently for his argument to come to a close. Finally, when he had finished, she made her reply, secretly relishing the reaction it was sure to gain, "So you have more pressing matters than the Teraknaar?"

The admiral who had been so talkative only moments before now only stared at her with shock and confusion. "That… that knowledge is classified! How did you know?"

"Calm down Brantly, I'm sure there is a reasonable explanation," one of the younger officers in the room replied.

"Yes," another individual, Admiral Sterak, one of the few Vulcans present at the meeting, agreed, "It would be illogical to do anything extreme. I would suggest we listen to what the young girl has to say. The very fact that she has knowledge concerning this matter seems to suggest that what she says truly has some import."

After much debate, the majority of the present admirals finally agreed with the Vulcan's observation. As the room silenced once again, the young woman continued, "I know more than a few of you have suspicions concerning my identity already and, I must admit, more than a few of you are correct. My name is Amanda Rogers and I have come here on pressing matters."

On the wake of her revelation, an awkward silence filled the room for a moment. Starfleet had not had many pleasant experiences with her people. They, or one of their representatives, had directly sought to eradicate humanity on multiple occasions, and, in inadvertently introducing humanity to the Borg, they had come extremely close to succeeding. At best, her compatriots were considered a nuisance and, at worse, they were reviled as one of the greatest threats the Federation had ever encountered.

Finally, the silence was broken by one of the more senior admirals, Admiral Marcus Powell. He had retired from Starfleet four years before but his past had called out to him. Still robust despite his age, and a Starfleet Officer all his life, he quickly retained his commission and now, in the wake of recent events, he had quickly become one of Starfleet's leading minds once again.

"Amanda Rogers," he smiled, his grey eyes taking in her appearance. To be honest, he had expected the near-omnipotent to be a lot more physically striking. Instead, she appeared to be a normal human being, not just in her appearance but her mannerisms as well. He had heard she was different than the rest of her people, and her earliest actions and, considering her intervention at Tagra IV so many years before, he had always been one to afford her the benefit of the doubt. At this moment, however, there was little doubt to be had. He considered himself a good judge of character, and though her species was certainly lacking in this regard, he suspected she was not.

After a moment of contemplation, the aging admiral spoke again, "Now that's a name that has come up quite a lot in recent weeks. For a Q, I must admit, you're remarkably restrained."

"A bit too restrained," Admiral Brantly Russell, the man who had attacked her earlier, observed under his breadth. Though Amanda heard it, Powell did not, for the old admiral did not even glance towards Russell's direction.

"I am doing as I must," Amanda replied, "As you all know, a new presence is preparing to strike, and it is just as much a threat as any you've faced in your past. I have come here to help as much as I can."

"The Teraknaar," a voice in the crowd observed, to which Amanda nodded and continued her explanation, "What I told Odo, I now tell you. They are an enemy your civilization is not equipped to deal with. Their vessels will tear through your fleets with little difficulty, and each of your worlds will inevitably fall before them as their expansion gets underway."

"If, as you say, we do not stand a chance against these enemies," Sterak pointed out, "I cannot see why you would bother alerting us to their presence in the first place."

"Unless this is all a game to her," Admiral Russell stated, fixing her with a venomous glare. Amanda could already tell that she had made one enemy in Starfleet Command, though she could easily suspect why. His emotions seemed to flow out from his psyche, clear and open to her perceptions. He hated her, not for her actions or conduct, but due to his own ego. When she had entered the room, he had recklessly spoken against her presence and, now that she had begun to gain a degree of trust with some of the other generals, he could see his own standing slipping away from him. He would do everything in his power in order to stem this tide without even thinking about the consequences such actions would bring.

"I assure you, this is not a game," Amanda answered, repressing the desire to make a much stronger response to his assertion, "In short order, the carnage will begin, have no doubt about that. I came here to offer my assistance."

One of the younger admirals used this opportunity to interrupt her explanation, "We know what you're capable of… that you'd probably be able to bring an end to the hostilities on a whim. However, I'm afraid we cannot allow ourselves to become dependant on another entity, no matter what they're intentions might be."

A murmur of assent spread throughout the meeting room and Amanda couldn't help but respect his opinion. Captain Picard would have probably said the same thing, or something very much like it.

"Admiral Ricker is correct," another voice stated, agreeing with her dissenter, and soon other voices joined in support. However, when Admiral Marcus Powell chose to reenter the conversation, the milling began to dim.

"I'm afraid you haven't even allowed yourself the opportunity to hear the young girl's suggestion. For all we know, she has no intention of assisting in such a manner at all."

The Q nodded, quite thankful that she had obtained such a powerful ally so quickly, "Thank you, Admiral. In response to the suspicions voiced by Admiral Ricker, I can assure you that I have no intention of making such efforts. The Continuum does not completely approve of my stance on this issue."

"Then what do you suggest?" another voice from the crowd asked.

Amanda paused for a moment, as she prepared to voice the reason for her appearance, and all of her previous actions, even though she knew that her suggestion would be a source of much debate and argument. In the end, she knew it would be rejected, but it was also she had to do. Reveal the strategy now, if only to implement it later.

"You know nothing of the Teraknaar," she began, fixing her eyes from one admiral to the next, "And you cannot even begin to comprehend what they're technology is capable of. However, for all their power, they have a basic apprehension that drives and haunts them both simultaneously. This fear they call the Sirrthi."

At this moment, the admiralty had grown deathly silent. She had obtained their attention and not even Brantly entertained any intentions of interrupting. Starfleet knew nothing of the enemy they were about to face, but everyone in the room now knew that this was no longer the case. All attention was focused upon her and, immune to the pressures of the situation, she continued.

"The Sirrthi were a civilization that appeared in the Andromeda Galaxy over 100,000 years ago though they had been active spacefarers for millions of years already. In those millions of years, they had developed advanced technologies that allowed entire galaxies to come under their dominion. Then, as quickly as they rose to power, they fell. A terror unleashed itself upon their home world and it tore their civilization to threads. Their fall was fast and they were powerless to stop it. Now all that remains of them are a few manned outposts and lots of technology."

Admiral Sterak immediately knew where she was going with this, "You suggest that the Teraknaar actually obtained their technology from the Sirrthi." Noticing Amanda nod in agreement, Sterak continued, "It is a fascinating revelation. However, when I think about all that you've just said, I can not help but be drawn towards their ultimate collapse. Considering how advanced they were to have accomplished so much, whatever it was that ultimately destroyed them must have possessed an almost unfathomable degree of power…"

Amanda nodded, "It did. However, the immediate threat you face is not that which destroyed the Sirrthi but that which their destruction conceived. The Teraknaar rose to power in the first place by finding one of their surviving vessels and reproducing it. They are tyrannical rulers who survive only by imposing themselves upon the masses. However, if another power was able to find another relic of the Sirrthi, their entire empire would crumble."

Finally, Admiral Russell interrupted her explanation, "What you say sounds logical enough, but unfortunately, I did not know that the Sirrthi left anything behind in our Quadrant. In fact, I do not know of anything we've ever come across capable of the kind of feats you speak of."

Amanda was silent for a moment before voicing her response. To be honest, from the beginning of the meeting, she had been trying to avoid antagonizing him further, but now, for one singular moment, her patience had snapped. Amanda no longer cared whether or not she had him for an enemy; he had chosen his side already.

"Admiral, I'm getting very impatient with your constant need to interrupt me. Whether it's your own ego to blame or if you honestly believe yourself to be correct in your thinking, from the very beginning, all you have done is jump to conclusions without even giving me the chance to explain anything… As I was going to say before you deigned interrupt, you will not find anything within your own sphere of influence relating to Sirrthi intelligence. However, just to satisfy your curiosity, your civilization has run into Sirrthi technology before. The incident concerning the sentient space ship dubbed 'Tin Man' comes to mind."

"You're saying that… 'Tin Man' was created by the Sirrthi?" Brantly replied, unable to fully believe what he was hearing, "But… how do you know of that incident."

"As Q would say, I'm omniscient," Amanda replied sharply, "Now, do you have any other questions or can I continue?"

This time there was no response and Amanda smirked. She knew that she should not have enjoyed humiliating the man but he had had it coming. She could sense that more than a few members in the audience agreed with her.

"Now then," she continued, "As I was saying, the Sirrthi have been gone for centuries but their technology still does exist, and more than a few relics lie dormant within the Teraknaar Empire. As you all know, I have the ability to transport spaceships across vast distances of space. Furthermore, the Continuum has allowed me to take such actions…"

"Wait," another admiral added and she respectfully halted her explanation and allowed him to voice dissent, "As Admiral Ricker has already pointed out, we cannot allow ourselves to become dependant on external forces, no matter how good natured this interference might be."

Amanda nodded, "In all honesty, I would not be interfering much. I have only been allowed to send a single vessel to the Andromeda Galaxy, and aside from this initial act, I must remain a powerless observer. I can give vague suggestions on what to watch out for and where to look but I would not be able to directly interfere in anything that transpires."

Admiral Powell, "In other words, you're suggesting a suicide mission."

His observation caused a whispers to build across the hall and, head bowed, Amanda nodded, "I will not deceive you. The odds of one of your crews finding anything are very slim, and the Teraknaar will show no mercy if they discover the presence of one of your crews. However, as I said before, you do not have the technology to hold off the Sirrthi. This option represents the only chance of survival."

"However, we also only have your word on this," Brantly Russell replied, sensing that, as popular sentiment began to turn against her, this was also his chance to repay her for the humiliation he had suffered earlier, "And what have you done to earn our trust? What reasoning is there that we should compromise our defenses and our crews when we cannot even confirm that the intelligence given us is correct. I, for one, am quite inclined to believe this is all one game for you."

Though she tried her best to respond to their statements, in the end, such efforts proved fruitless; just as she knew going in that they would be. However, just because Starfleet Command could not see the necessity of this course did not make it any less necessary.

"It's not a game," she insisted beneath her breadth as she finally made her way out of the meeting room. "I hate this proposal more than any of you."

But despite her own personal feelings, she knew that it was the only remaining option. Shaking her head at the ignorance and foolishness that the Starfleet leadership had shown, she vanished in a flash of light. There she pondered the final stage of her plan, and questioned just how well she could go through with it.

L

It had been a little over a month since Odo had watched his people depart through the wormhole and, in that time, Odo had left his quarters only once. To be honest, social interactions couldn't fully replace what he had given up, and he wasn't in the mood to deceive himself by pretending that they did. Though he still wouldn't trade Kira for anything in the universe, he had still given up a lot. He was still recovering from that loss.

After a few moments, he heard the door alarm buzz. He grumbled intelligibly under his breadth. To be honest, he wasn't quite in the mood for visitors. Nevertheless, he found compelled to let them in. He shook his head, hoping this desire wasn't another one of Amanda's tricks. Then again, he hadn't seen her since Gul Takorr got compromised and he suspected his role in her scheme was finished.

"Come in," he answered and his mood dropped as he saw Julian Bashir enter. He didn't have anything against the doctor. In fact, he considered him one of his friends. One of the few friends Odo had ever made. Nevertheless, he could already guess where Bashir would be going with their conversation and he was not quite in the mood for such conversations.

Before Julian was able to even speak a word, Odo took the initiative, and responded, "I know what you're going to say, Doctor, and trust me, there's nothing to worry about. It was a conscious decision I made and I don't regret it one bit. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to be alone."

Bashir was silent for a moment. To be honest, he had expected Odo to react this way. Odo had, from the beginning, been a somewhat reclusive individual, avoiding social interaction as much as he possibly could. Through his relationship with Kira, he had begun to reverse this trend to some degree, but these tendencies had not yet been fully reversed. Recent events, however, had reawaken these earlier traits, and the old Odo had begun to reemerge. Bashir shook his head, but he knew that there was no point in speaking to his old friend. Odo could be very stubborn when he insisted upon it.

"If you insist," Bashir replied, his disappointment resonating in his tone and body language. He then departed, leaving the Changeling in solitude. Bashir was not one to give up lightly but he knew that, in this situation, he would just have to wait… and trust that Odo would return to normal in his own time.

L

Viran stood in command of a Jem-Hadar Warship, the light of madness reflecting in his bloodshot eyes. Behind him and before him stretched a vast line of other military vessels; a fleet that represented the unmitigated wrath of the Founders. His masters were dying but they intended to bring everything down with them. It was a fitting end for a race of gods. He grinned sadistically. The Alpha Quadrant would have no idea what hit them and they would never have the time to find out.

Across Dominion space the fleet traveled, quickly approaching the wormhole that work link it to its final destination. There, vengeance would at last be had and the Crimes of the Alphas would be paid for in full.

The Teraknaar couldn't have been any more pleased. Everything was proceeding as they had planned.


	2. The Peace before the Storm

II: The Peace before the Storm

Jean Luc Picard looked around Seven Forward, mentally noting the other officers and civilians who frequented its confines. So many lives were under his protection, unaware of the dangerous times that were approaching. If Amanda was correct, a second war was inevitable. Starfleet Command had classified this knowledge and it was already apparent that the other nations were doing the same. It disappointed him that other human beings had taken such a route but, as much as he disliked this deception, he understood the purpose behind such orders and reluctantly obeyed them.

"You look somewhat disturbed Captain. You know I'm always willing to listen. What's troubling you?"

He looked from his glass to find Guinan looking back at him, cleaning one of the drinking glasses as she awaited his answer. To be honest, he wasn't surprised that she had noticed. Guinan was anything if not perceptive and, as much as he would have liked to hear her feedback, this was an issue which he had to keep to himself.

"It's nothing," he replied, "Nothing for you to worry about."

Guinan nodded, though, deep down, he knew that she suspected otherwise, "If you say so, Captain. However, it is apparent that something is very much wrong. If you can't speak about it with others, perhaps it would be best to contemplate the matter in your own mind."

The Starfleet Captain rose from his chair and turned to leave the establishment, "Thank you, Guinan. I think I will."

Smiling, Guinan nodded.

Meanwhile, the Enterprise continued on course, nearing the Klingon homeworld of Qo'noS at maximum warp.

L

The USS Excalibor had been reassigned in the wake of its success in the Seishin System and was set to patrol the wormhole. Captain Alexis Wood was seated in the Captain's Chair, her mind on the past rather then the present. She had accepted the Seishin mission with a fervent zeal. It represented her chance to avenge the deaths of her crewmate aboard the Fletcher. It represented the chance for her to bring justice upon the villains who had weaved terror in the system with almost a reckless disregard for life in general.

However, in the end, for all her zeal, what had she achieved? Yes, the Probe Ships were destroyed, but at a tremendous cost. One of her convoy's ships had been fully destroyed and her own was still hampered with damage all over the hull. It was only because of the Teraknaar threat that she was still on Active Duty and her ship not currently placed in one of the Federation's shipyards. No sooner had one war ended that another seemed to rise in its shadow. Would humanity ever find peace?

Ahead, the Space Station Deep Space Nine came into view and the Starfleet Captain prepared to meet with the leading Cardassian and Bajoran authorities in preparation for the next war.

L

Kira stepped through the doors and into the room, only to find it empty. In fact, the only object within the chamber's confines was a statue of whose origins she could not recognize. It was only a matter of moments, however, before this strange object began to morph, and moments later, Odo was standing in front of her.

"Kira," he said, "I… I didn't know you were coming."

"Well, you haven't spoken to anyone in the last week."

"That's true," he admitted, though hesitantly, "But things haven't been entirely easy for me either."

"I know that, but sitting in your room will not help with anything. Both Bajorans and Founders are, at the core of things, social life forms, Odo. Sometimes you've got to express your feelings. When you're overburdened, you have to allow others to take up the weight and help you through your problems. If you can't connect in times of tragedy, when can you?"

"I know," Odo admonished, not allowing himself to look into Kira's eyes. He knew what he was subjecting her to, but she was strong. She would survive this. However, if he allowed himself to witness her own distress, Odo had the distinct impression that he would not. "And I promise you that I will. For now, however, I think this is the best thing. Give me time for the wounds to heal."

Kira sighed, but knew the way Odo was. Socially, he could be awkward at best and, at the moment, she had not expected him to open up to her. At least not now. Not on the first time.

"I will be back to check up on you later," she stated, before leaving him behind and returning from which she came.

"I can't wait," he replied, in a sarcastic vain, before thinking about what shape to take next.

"You know, Odo, she's right. Your consciousness is bleeding sorrow, and such wounds cannot be healed through passive measures."

"Amanda," the Founder greeted, turning to find the apparently young, blonde headed teenager sitting on the floor behind him. In reality, she was an immortal entity who possessed knowledge and power he could not even conceive of. "To be honest, you're one of the last people I expected to pay a visit."

The omnipotent's eyes seemed to sparkle for a moment as she replied, "Is that so? I saved your life once. Why do you find it so strange for me to repeat the effort?"

"It's not strange," Odo admitted, "But I would have figured you'd have bigger issues to deal with… or was your story about the Teraknaar a lie after all?"

Amanda shook her head, "No, but the fact remains: you underestimate your importance. If the Federation is to survive, you will need to regain your confidence. Two Quadrants will require your leadership before events run their course."

Odo scoffed at the notion, "I hate to correct a supposedly omniscient being, but I am hardly in a position of leadership."

"Don't sell yourself short," she replied cryptically, "However, when the time comes, I hope you can fill the role destiny commands. Otherwise, things will become a lot more complicated. Nevertheless, that moment is still some time away. I only hope that you will have begun progressing by the time it comes."

She turned away from Odo, "Do not shut yourself out forever. You are harming more than just yourself."

In a flash, she was gone, leaving Odo alone, with new revelations to contemplate, though, at the moment, he could not even venture a guess concerning what more he could contribute.

L

The planet of Romulus was actually quite beautiful at this time of year. Nevertheless, Laylin was never one who particularly cherished aesthetics. He lived for his work. He lived for Romulus.

He looked back on the previous weeks' events. Going into the Deep Space Nine Conference, he had expected to gather information and probe for possible political weaknesses his government could exploit in the years to come. He never had expected to fall in league with an intergalactic empire with the technology to utterly destroy the Federation once and for all. In them, he saw the chance for Romulans to finally ascend to their rightful place as the dominant species in the Alpha Quadrant. Underneath the Teraknaar of course.

It had been over a month now since he had last had contact with the Teraknaar infiltrator, Saltarr. He still was very much in the dark considering the shapeshifter's mission, but he did not find it to difficult to guess who it was aimed at. The Teraknaar had been pulling on everyone's strings for generations now. Now, all they needed was that final push allowing them to take over. Instigating the Founders to war had clearly been an effective strategy from their perspective.

Laylin took a look at his race's homeworld, and found himself determined to make his vision a reality. The Federation would be destroyed, the Teraknaar would triumph, and Romulus would come out as the power center of the new order with its people the dominant constituency.

He turned his eyes towards the Senate Building, knowing what he would soon have to do: convince the senate to take the necessary steps and align themselves with the Teraknaar. The Federation was growing at an alarming pace and he wasn't the only Romulan who realized this. He doubted it would be too difficult, given this knowledge, to convince his government to follow his recommendation.

L

Thvrar silently awaited the inevitable, as he stood within the Holding Cell, knowing that he had betrayed his mission, his people and his ambition. He still remembered his last conversation with the Q girl: the one who had unraveled his conspiracy. Amanda Rogers: the one who had destroyed his ambition.

He had always been fearless. Ruthless in his quest for power, he allowed himself no time for second guessing, no time for doubt. He decided upon a goal and then he took the steps required to attain it. His overarching goal had been, from the very beginning, a seat on the Imperial Council. Though the Teraknaar did not particularly value individual ambition, it was a trait that they encouraged in their servants, for ambition sped their conquests and spread the order they represented. Had he succeeded, the responsibility and the power such an appointment represented would have surely been secured.

But now, all that was lost. He was a traitor and a threat to the very operation he had set in motion. As he looked outside his cell, he knew that it was only a matter of time before he would be liquidated. After all, he knew too much, and the Teraknaar never allowed a threat to be uncontrolled.

He remembered his encounter with the omnipotent. It was the conversation that had turned him into a traitor, and ensured his fate as a victim, no matter who won. For the first time in his life, he had felt fear. For the first time in his life, he had acted irrationally, ignoring the reality and acting upon a threat. He still questioned how much of her warnings were a bluff and how much she would have actually gone through with.

In the end, it had boiled down to fear. He had always been in control. He had always been pulling the strings. Such was the role of the Infiltrators in general. Never before had he found events out of his control. He strode back and forth within the cell, desperately trying to find a means by which to regain control over events and his own destiny.

In the end, Thvrar gave up. Things had moved too far, too fast. He had passed the point of redemption. He was a traitor forever. However, he could still survive. He was still too important for the Federation to execute. That meant he would merely have to keep silent about his former comrades. His people were cautious to an extreme. They would not risk their resources to eliminate a non-threat.

L

Captain Jean Luc Picard of the USS Enterprise gave the order to enter into Klingon space, knowing all too well the necessity of such action. It had only been one year since the old war had ended, and already a new one was set to begin. In preparation for that new war, it would be necessary to reaffirm old alliances and bonds. Considering the pivotal role his ship and his crew had played in Federation-Klingon relations, it was only natural that he had been chosen for this task.

However, he was only one of many individuals caught up in the preparations. All over the Alpha Quadrant, in each of the major civilizations, ships were being constructed, fleets being mobilized, and diplomatic relations reopened. The civilizations of the Alpha Quadrant knew what was coming, and they were intent on defending their liberty against foreign invasion.

And all this, Q watched. He saw the struggles that were involved and the myriad possibilities still to come. The past, present and future were interconnected, but time was nowhere near as fragile as humans professed it to be. For all they had grown over the centuries, they were still fools, but he figured that such was part of their appeal. Not all life forms, after all, should possess omniscience. If they did, things would get boring.

However, at the moment, they were a light flickering, a fledgling fire threatened by the winds of change. He could not see the future; not with the unpredictability Q influence had catalyzed. Nevertheless, despite his uncertainty, he hoped that they would survive the coming trials. If they were to fade out, so too would disappear one of the most fascinating lights the universe contained.

L

A/N: Thanks to all who reviewed "A Prelude to Conflict" and have reviewed this as well. I read reviews and value feedback.

DrIvoRobotnik: a very belated response to a statement you made when reviewing "A Prelude to Conflict": in all reality, I never actually conceived of Laylin betraying the Teraknaar, though it would make a very interesting plot point with a number of interesting angles that could be explored. To be honest, however, I have always been under the impression that the Romulans are an extremely rational and pragmatic civilization. Their decisions and policies almost always seem serve a greater overall purpose and/or strategy as a whole. In the case of Laylin, his central goal the destruction of the Federation. As a result, I can't really see him immediately betraying the Teraknaar, especially considering their own resources and capabilities, at least not until the Federation has already been neutralized. Nevertheless, thanks for reviewing and positing a very interesting suggestion. I had a great winter break and I hope you had a nice last few weeks as well.


	3. Hunting Season

III: Hunting Season

Qo'noS. It had been a while since he had last been here. Almost fifty years. Alone, the hooded figure gazed down at the empire's capital city. He couldn't repress a smile. After all that time, it was still a breathtaking place.

He closed his eyes, his thoughts turning towards other, more important, issues. Things had been going perfectly according to plan but, in one moment, in one event, they fell out of control. In the end, Thvrar had been a fool. A brilliant one, admittedly, but a fool nonetheless.

The Alphas knew about the infiltration now. They knew about the invasion fleet and they were preparing for war. He shook his head. True, the odds were still on his side's favor, but such thinking only worked in the short term. The Teraknaar always looked at the big picture. At the moment, he could not be sure how well the invasion would proceed.

Thvrar in the end had been too devious. He had always been aiming to take that one extra step but, unfortunately, he never realized that such moves were often unnecessary. He had thought himself cautious and patient but, in the end, neither was a match for the grandiosity that lay hidden beneath everything.

Thltara entered into the city center, all too certain of the obstacles that he had faced. Thvrar had failed and now responsibility fell to him to pick up the pieces. He couldn't stifle the smile that was forming on his face.

He had always liked a challenge.

L

The USS Enterprise crossed into Klingon space, with specific orders to meet with Chancellor Martok as soon as possible. Events had taken unexpected turnings it was deemed necessary to form defensive strategies throughout the Quadrant.

One of the Federation's most respected and decorated officers had been chosen for this critical mission and currently he stood on the bridge of the USS Enterprise, watching as the stars passed by at warp speed, waiting for the escort Klingon warships to arrive.

"Captain, sensors are picking up multiple warp signatures approaching," his science officer, a pale skinned android who had served with him even before the previous Enterprise had been destroyed, "They are Klingons, sir."

"Excellent," Captain Picard replied, "Plot an intercept course."

"Aye sir," the active ensign stated, inputting the necessary data into the computer and executing the orders of his captain.

"Engage."

L

The Klingon, Captain Kor'ak, was seated in the command chair, his eyes on the Main Viewer or, more particularly, the Federation starship that was currently shown on it.

"Captain, we are being hailed."

"Let's put them on the viewer, shall we?"

"Captain," his subordinate assented and, a few minutes later, the face of the other Starship's captain appeared on the screen. Kor'ak grinned, recognizing the man's face immediately.

"Captain Picard, I take it? Welcome to Klingon Space. There is much to discuss and the Council seems to be very particular about you. Another battle's coming, Captain. I have a second sense about such things. Come though, it will be an honor to fight alongside you."

"Likewise," Captain Picard agreed, "Though, to be honest, I would like to know exactly who will be escorting my ship across Klingon space."

Kor'rak answered Picard's statement with loud laughter, "Ah, Picard, you speak true. It is rude to first drink without introductions, isn't it? For that, I offer my apologies. I am Kor'ak, son of Torr, and I am Captain of this ship."

"Well then, Kor'ak. I trust that you'll be able to guide us to Qo'noS safely and without delay. I place my trust in your capable and experienced hands. Kapla."

Kor'ak sharp teeth shown through his grin and his eyes seemed to shine with some kind of savagery, "Don't worry, Captain. We won't be leading you into any treachery. After all, its clear that something's on the horizon and I've always wanted to share a drink with you, Picard. You can trust me."

"Thank you," Picard replied in kind, "And you can rest assured that I am looking forward to drinking with you as well."

"Then we are of one mind," Kor'ak stated as boisterously as ever, "When you meet with Chancellor Martok, tell him that I send my regards, and am looking forward to the next time I serve in battle."

"You can be assured that I will, Captain," the human replied before terminating the hail. Kor'ak grinned as he turned to his first officer.

"It seems that hunting season once again approaches. I believe celebrations are in order…"

L

Twelve Starfleet intelligence officers met via highly protected communications relays. It was a top secret channel, protected by the most advanced data encryption which the Federation presented. The twelve officers kept their backs turned from the Viewscreen so that, if the message was interrupted, their identities might still be kept secret. The organization was top secret and if knowledge of its existence was released, the results would likely be catastrophic.

Captain Thomas Corter was silent for a moment before he spoke, "Gentlemen. You know why we are all here. The issue of the Teraknaar have been made clear to the highest levels of command but it is impossible to fully ascertain the threat that they represent. So, I ask the question, what do we know about them?"

"Nothing," each replied in turn, though the last of the eleven others added, "We only know the havoc they have caused but nothing concerning them individually."

This news spurred the fourth speaker to ask, "Question: we know we have one, Admiral Steven Kane, formerly a Teraknaar infiltrator. I would have thought he would have brought some insight into their minds and plans."

"I can see that your interests are indeed focused on the Klingons and not your own civilization," the sixth spoke.

"Indeed," Corter agreed, "Starfleet intelligence has indeed interrogated the former Admiral Kane, but he has not been entirely forthcoming. In fact, they have learned nothing."

"It seems conventional technique has failed," the first observed.

"It always does," the eleventh added, "If it didn't, after all, we wouldn't be so direly needed."

"Indeed," the third stated, "In the case of Admiral Steven Kane, I would suggest that more radical methods must be taken."

"Such sentiments reflect necessity," the seventh replied, "But careful planning must be taken to ensure its success. Kidnapping involves great risk and to jump into it immediately would be foolish."

_Spoken like a true Vulcan_, Corter thought, nodding, "Agreed. The abduction of a Teraknaar agent shall be our primary objective. For the moment, however, there are other things to discuss. Shall we get to them?"

The eleventh was silent for a moment before she spoke, "Yes. My own subordinates have passed on some very disturbing news. A reflection of the times, one might say. The Founders are dying."

There was a brief silence before the meeting broke into commotion. No one had expected events to play out in such a fashion, but Corter calmed his fellow spies down, "Silence. Go on with your explanation."

After nodding her assent, the eleventh continued her explanation, "The means of their destruction is perhaps most disturbing of all. The reality of the issue is that they were inflicted with a mutation of our own Virus."

"What are you insinuating?" the fourth asked, silent menace creeping in his tone, "You know as well as I that each of us is loyal."

"I have never said as much," the eleventh stated, "But somewhere along the line, the technology behind our engineered virus was leaked and Teraknaar agents were able to synthesize a mutated strain. I do not yet know who was responsible but rest assured, I will find that answer."

"It could have been anyone," Corter stated, "One of our agents, possibly one of us. Nevertheless, the weak link will be found. From what we have so far gathered, Admiral Kane was in command of the Teraknaar infiltration. As a result, capturing him would be the first step in unraveling the greater mystery behind recent events. The rest of you have your own tasks to undertake. I will report on my findings as they come in."

"If you say so," the eleventh replied.

"Good, in the meantime, Gamma, continue to gather information on the Dominion Warfleet, and weaken it in any way you can. I don't want a repeat of the first Dominion War."

"It will be difficult," the female member of Section 31's leadership replied, "But my agents will do all that they can."

After a brief pause, Corter continued, "Thank you. Rest assured, we will not have a repeat of the first Dominion War. Anyway, now that that matter's been discussed, what intelligence do we have from Qo'noS?"

"The Enterprise has passed into Klingon territory," the Fourth Investigator replied, "And is currently being taken to the Imperial Homeworld by an escort of three Bird-of-Preys. They are commanded by Captain Kor'ak of the House of Torr. An interesting figure, Torr. Bloodthirsty even for a Klingon, though I think he is trustworthy enough. It seems, however, that the Politicians of the Homeworld were wary of his military triumphs, and kept him secure behind the lines during the Dominion War. I heard he did not take too kindly to that decision."

Corter nodded, "That decision might work to our favor. His bloodlust must have risen tremendously. We might need it when we face off against the Dominion and the Teraknaar."

"If it doesn't lead him to disaster," the Klingon Investigator mused, "But that is something that cannot entirely be foretold. Nevertheless, my sources suggest that he has been in an extremely good mood as of late?"

"You think he has knowledge concerning the Teraknaar threat?" The Gamma Investigator asked.

"I would not jump to conclusions," the Fourth Investigator replied, "Not unless you have convincing evidence that he has been warned."

"I do not, but I would suggest we investigate Captain Kor'ak in the future."

"Agreed," Corter stated, "And what does the Romulan Investigator state?"

The Fourth Investigator was silent for a moment, as if thinking his answer through, "Have you ever heard of a Tal Shiar agent by the name of Laylin?"

"No," Corter stated, "Why?"

"He has been most vocal in his support of a Teraknaar-Romulan alliance. Furthermore, he has already drawn to him more than a small amount of support from the Senate. If we are not careful, we could easily be facing hostility from both the Romulans and the Teraknaar."

"Do what must be done," Corter stated, coldly, "Anything else?"

Corter's question was answered by silence to which Corter nodded, "Very well. Meeting adjourned."

The Viewer went blank and Corter, stretching, stepped onto the Bridge, "How long before we reach Terra?"

"Eleven more hours."

"Good, send a message to Starfleet Command. Tell them that I wish to speak with Admiral Kane."

"Yes, sir."


	4. The Abduction

IV: The Abduction

He watched as a pair of Starfleet Intelligence Agents came to a stop outside his cell. He smirked in spite of himself. Their organization was, for the most part, remarkably inadequate at gathering information. They were too idealistic in their methods. They weren't nearly enough ruthless.

"Admiral Steven Kane, I'm so glad we could meet. I'm Captain Thomas Corter and, to be honest, I've rather been looking forward to this conversation for a long time. Now, we are going to have a nice, long chat. After all, the fate of both our civilizations lies in the balance."

Thvrar smirked as he appraised the newcomer. He was middle aged but his eyes held a coldness to him that he found most rare in Starfleet officers. He had been interrogated several times before, often by the same group of officers, but this was the first time he had been visited by this individual, "Captain Corter? Funny, I don't recognize you. Are you newly assigned? Tell me, might you be taking over the investigation?"

Corter was silent for a few moments but shook his head, "No, Admiral. I merely requested a meeting with you. You see, I happen to be quite an active reader and I couldn't help but notice, in the reports, that we had a captive, self identified spy that refuses to give any information. Now, surely you recognize the dangers that puts us in… Now, we both know that your people have infiltrated much of the Federation's infrastructure so, what I want to know is… who are they and what have they done?"

Kane smiled. He was like all the others: willing to ask the questions but not what was necessary to attain them. Thvrar answered with a lie, "And I keep telling you… I don't have any information. I only played a small part in the overall operation."

Corter nodded, "So you say. However, why don't you answer me this question. Why did you betray your people?"

Thvrar paled visibly as he recalled previous events, but he regained his composure quickly, subjugating his fear and anxiety.

"It was a moment of weakness. However, I will redeem that error with my silence. You will learn nothing from me."

This answer, at least, provided truth. However, Thvrar was not silent for the sake of redemption, he was silent for the sake of survival. The Teraknaar had always shown an extremely cautious nature and going through all the trouble of assassinating him would present a terrific risk for their own security. After all, for the moment, he was under constant guard and supervision. Any agent aiming for his assassination risked getting captured in turn and the Infiltrators would not take such chances unless he proved himself a legitimate threat.

So far, he had kept silent, for he knew all too well what would happen otherwise. Corter shook his head, "You refuse to reveal even the least bit of intelligence, yet you expect us to keep you under guard?"

"I am the only member of my people that you have captured at all," Thvrar pointed out, "I am the only potential source of knowledge Starfleet possesses. Well, except for that Cardassian, Gul Takorr, but we both know that he knows nothing. So tell me, Captain, can you really refuse me sanctuary?"

Corter nodded, "Well played, Admiral. Even in captivity, you are still in control of your surroundings. I can see now just how dangerous you Infiltrators are. Nevertheless, spy, we do have limited patience. I do hope you're fortunate enough not to exhaust it."

Thvrar shook his head, "Don't worry about me, Captain. I'm not the one facing an enemy unprepared. Worry about yourself. After all, my people will reign over you all soon enough."

"And when that happens, what do you think they'll do to you?" Corter asked, "Our people do not reward traitors, does yours?"

Thvrar responded, in defiance, "I haven't betrayed them yet, Corter. I've merely surrendered and, trust me, I've no intention of betraying them."

"If you say so," Corter said turning his back to the shapeshifter, "We will speak again."

Thvrar smiled, "I'll be looking forward to it. Captain."

The Intelligence Officer nodded as he walked back down the corridor, considering his other options, "As will I."

L

Odo stepped into the restaurant and his eye quickly caught the Ferengei Barkeep, "Quark."

"Odo, I'm surprised to see you, seeing how you've been in your room all the time," Quark replied, "You know, we were going to put odds on when you were going to return but well, with this all of a sudden, I guess we'll have to cancel…"

"I know," Odo replied, "That's why I came."

Quark feigned astonishment, "So you're saying that you recovered from a severe bout with depression just to spite me?"

The former Security Chief nodded, "You would be surprised at what I'm willing to do just for the sake of your inconvenience."

Quark shook his head and, muttering incoherently under his breadth, went back to the counter and proceeded to clean glasses. Odo took a seat at one of the tables and patiently waited for Kira to arrive.

L

"Something's bothering you."

Julian Bashir rose his head from his desk and turned his eyes on the woman beside him, "What?"

"Ever since the Conference ended, you've been in a dejected state," she clarified, "Granted, it's not as bad as it is with Odo but it's there nonetheless."

"It's nothing," he stated calmly, "It's just that I have so much free time. Too much really."

"True, ever since the war ended, your workload has gone down considerably. I guess, in some ways, it might almost seem a bit boring, but that's not what's troubling you, is it?"

"Surely there must be someone else for you to psychoanalyze like this, Ezri," Julian replied, "Trust me, I'm perfectly fine."

"I'm a counselor, Julian," she replied, "Just like you're a doctor. I treat anyone who needs help, and at the moment, I can see that, whether or not you know it, your actions scream for attention."

"So does Odo," Bashir replied, "In fact, I think his situation is a bit more serious than my own."

"Julian, Odo has already taken the first steps to recovery. Granted, there is still a long way to go, but at least he's no longer in denial."

"I am not in denial!" Bashir answered with a passion that actually took Ezri aback. He recovered himself quickly and, noting her expression, somberly said, "I'm sorry. I don't know quite what got into me."

"You're under a lot of stress," she replied, "Whether you know it or not, you're worried about something, but you don't entirely want to speak about it. I think we both know that it's…"

"It's the war," Bashir answered dispassionately, "A little over a year after the last one and already another one looms on the horizon. So many dead, friends and family destroyed and now, all I can think about is the next one. Who will survive? Who will die. It could take Kira, it could take me… it could take you."

Ezri nodded, "You're right. We have no idea how the future will play out. Perhaps we will all perish, but such thoughts didn't seem to plague you in the previous war."

"It was different then," Julian insisted, "There was too much to do to worry about what might happen. I had a job to do and immediate concerns to focus on. Now, however, all I have is free time and all that surfaces are the memories of the last war, and the specter of the next. We barely made it out of the last one, Ezri. I don't know if the Federation can survive another."

Ezri nodded, "I do not have answers because the future is not readable. However, if we all do die in the coming months, would you really want your last days to be spent worrying about what might come to be?"

He nodded, "Ever since finding out about the coming war, I've been trying my best to prepare for what was to come. Research treatment options, run scenario analyses, but I have no idea what to look for. We know nothing about them, Ezri. Nothing."

"Then perhaps you should stop trying."

Julian nodded, "Perhaps your right."

Ezri responded with a knowing grin, "I'm always right."

L

Thvrar was seated in the Holding Cell, patiently awaiting his next interrogation. He hadn't said anything yet and, so long as he could maintain his silence, Thvrar was confident that he could postpone his execution.

Suddenly, he heard the automatic doors open revealing two middle aged men dressed in Starfleet intelligence uniforms. However, as they turned to face him, he could not help but notice the cold, unrelenting look that was present in their eyes. Something told him that they weren't as ethically minded as the rest of Starfleet Intelligence. Something in their eyes reminded him of the Romulan Tal Shiar.

"Admiral Steven Kane, you will come with us."

"Really?" the admiral replied, somewhat amused, "I didn't know Starfleet allowed their officer's to relocate prisoners on a whim."

The officer smiled sadistically and withdrew a phaser, "Oh, we're not recognized member of Starfleet."

And then, he fired and the Infiltrator's growing panic was only stunted by the unconsciousness that followed.

L

Slowly, Thvrar regained his consciousness and studied his surroundings. He was alone, trapped behind a force field with barely enough space to move. Just behind that Force Field was a man whom the Shapeshifter immediately recognized.

"Capter Corter, what's going on?" Thvrar demanded, trying to retain some degree of his tarnished authority.

"Traitors are not allowed to speak Admiral," Corter replied dismissively as his eyes scanned the paperwork that was scattered across the desk, "I don't have time for your games. You will either answer our questions… or you will be punished. Rest assured, you will not keep silent for us."

"And how exactly will you gain your information?" Thvrar asked, "Do you intend to torture me."

Corter took his eyes off the paperwork and fixed Thvrar with a cold, unsentimental glance, "If I have to, yes. Rest assured, we have our ways and we always find the answer."

Corter rose from the desk and turned his back to Thvrar, "Continue resisting, and your remaining days will be unpleasant. If you prove helpful, though, we will be benevolent in turn. Who knows, perhaps you'll eventually be able to regain your freedom, maybe even more. I just hope you won't have to be killed before that day came."

Corter's statement left Thvrar speechless and, for one of the few times in his life, the former Leader of the Teraknaar infiltration did not know what to do.


	5. Section 31

V: Section 31

She stepped off of the small freighter onto Deep Space Nine. Petite, with brown eyes that almost seemed to almost sparkle with intelligence along shoulder length red hair, she was dressed as a civilian, but had a presence about her which radiated responsibility. She was young, barely in her mid twenties, but few outside of certain circles knew of her existence. That was the way it had to be.

The woman possessed a photographic memory and had studied the station's internal schematics intensively before she had even departed on her journey. Without any doubts, she turned a corner, intent on reaching her destination: the infirmary.

L

It took only moments for the Away Team, made up of three humans and an android, to materialize upon the planet's surface. The Klingon waited for a few moments and then stepped forward to meet them.

"Captain Picard, it's been an honor to see you again."

"Worf," Picard replied, "To be honest, I didn't expect to meet you here on the surface."

"Considering his previous tour of duty on the Enterprise, it strikes me as obvious that events would play out in this manner," Data pointed out.

"He makes a valid point," Worf agreed, "By the way, where is your escort?"

Another member of the Away Team, bearded and wearing the red uniform of command, answered Worf's quandary, stating, "They should be around any time now."

"I see," Worf stated just before a second Away Team began to energize beside the first. This one was made up of Klingon officers and the moment Worf recognized this team's leader, his eyes narrowed and a guttural growl sounded from his throat.

"Kor'ak," he greeted coldly, "What are you doing here?"

"Worf," Kor'ak replied, "Puzzling, I can't understand how you can feel so coldly towards me. To the best of my knowledge, we've never even met before."

"Chancellor Martok told me much about you."

"Did he, now?" Kor'ak answered quite jovially, "Well then, I guess I can understand your distrust. The Chancellor and I never quite saw eye to eyes."

The Klingon Captain then proceeded to laugh at his own joke, though Worf responded with a poisonous stare, finding the jest more disrespectful than amusing.

"Come Worf," Kor'ak continued in a conciliatory tone, "You need to get a sense of humor. I guess all those years in Starfleet sapped the fun from of you." He then turned his attention towards the Away Team, "Nevertheless, Captain Picard, Commander Riker, it was an honor to meet with you. I look forward to working with you in the days to come."

"Likewise," Picard answered in a neutral tone.

"I can see you're in good hands," Kor'ak said, noticing Worf, "I believe he could handle the rest of these matters without my assistance. Now, if there isn't anything else, I believe I should return to my ship."

Picard nodded, "Not at all. I'm sure you have a lot of work to do Kor'ak."

Kor'ak nodded, a savage grin on his face as he and his crew slowly dematerialized, on transport back to their own ship.

"Captain Picard," Worf stated as soon as the transport was complete, making his way towards the Away Team, "Welcome to Qo'noS."

"Thank you," Picard answered, "And when will I be meeting with the Council?"

"The Chancellor has expressed great interest in meeting with you. If it's not a problem, we can begin immediately."

"Not at all," Picard replied, "Please lead the way."

L

The young woman stepped into the Infirmary, calm and confident. She noticed a lone individual with his back turned to her, and instantly recognized him for who he was. Julian Bashir: Starfleet Officer, doctor, and Section 31 agent. He was her predecessor's greatest failure but, at this moment, his experience could prove extremely useful.

"Doctor Bashir, I presume?"

"Yes?" he asked, turning around to face her, "How may I help you?"

She calmly looked him over for a moment before answering his question, "I need your help."

"Really… well then, how can I help you?"

"I need your assistance. I trust you're acquainted with Section 31?"

With her latest statement, his calm outlook had been briefly replaced with a storm of turbulent emotion but only for a moment. In the end, he answered her inquiry, stating emotionlessly, "I do not know what you're talking about."

"Then I take it you've never come in contact with a certain operative named Sloan."

Bashir was still turned away from her, but she could see from the tension in his shoulders that she had gotten her attention. Finally he responded, in a cold and detached tone of voice, "So, I take it you are one of them. I should have known you people wouldn't have faded away after the war's end."

"And why would you think something like that," she pressed, "You honestly think that something as petty as a ceasefire would make us disband?"

"I was hoping it would. The Federation could only go so far when brought down by your line of thinking."

"How naïve you are Doctor," she answered coyly, "Do you honestly believe us to be the bad guys? We've been protecting the Federation since it was created centuries ago. You wouldn't believe how many times civilization has escaped destruction because of us."

"Yes, I'm sure you have," Bashir replied, "But that doesn't make your actions any less right."

The woman studied him for a bit, intrigued by his resistance, "You know, the Ancient Greeks once had a word for people like you. You know what that is? They'd have called you a Sophist, one of those pseudo-philosophers that were once so populous, whose arguments amounted to little more than empty eloquence and, right now, you are doing the same exact thing: you throw around the concept of right and wrong but, in reality, you know nothing about them. Let's look at your own actions, shall we? During the Dominion War, you interfered in an operation that would have brought the war to an immediate end…"

"An operation that could be better designated mass genocide," Bashir pointed out somewhat heatedly.

"The Founders started that war, not us!" she replied, equally heated, "Do you know what would have happened had we lost? Do you know how many would have died, how many would have fallen into slavery? The Federation could have been destroyed through your actions…"

"But it wasn't. If anything, my actions led to the ceasefire and peace treaty that brought an end to the war."

She nodded, "You could say we got lucky. Nevertheless, had events played out differently, the Federation easily might have fallen to the Dominion and, had that happened, you, Doctor Bashir, would have been responsible. Tell me, what do you know of the late Benjamin Sisco? Would you have called him a virtuous individual?"

"Of course," Bashir replied, "He's one of the best men I've ever served with."

The woman nodded, "Tell me, Doctor. Do you know why the Romulans entered the Dominion War on our side?"

"Yes," he replied, "The Dominion assassinated one of Romulus' senators."

She shook her head, a dark gleam showing in her eyes, "Not the Dominion, Doctor. It was Sisko. He killed a Romulan senator and pinned the atrocity on the Dominion. Was it unethical? Most certainly. But it was necessary. The Romulans came into the war as allies, and with their assistance, we were able to stave off what would have otherwise been an almost certain defeat."

"Now I know you're lying," Bashir replied, a darkness betraying his calm tone.

She shook her head, a slight smile on her face, "If you have your doubts, feel free to ask Mister Gerak. He was in on the plan. Anyway, you fail to see the point. What Sisko did was certainly not right, but it was necessary. His actions reflected the necessity of this organization. We do that which must be done."

"Even if it means betraying the ideals the Federation represents?"

"Of course," the woman answered, circling him calmly, like a hawk, "Do you think the Romulans would play fair? Or the Cardassians? Do you think we would survive for long if we didn't match their ruthlessness in kind? Of course not. You enjoy your freedoms only because people like us take the actions necessary to protect them."

"And have you ever tried anything differently?"

She laughed in response, "An idealist, I see. I thought the war would have burned that out of you. I was hoping you'd see our side, but it seems you're too naïve to realize it. So be it, I won't make the same mistake Sloan did. But I will tell you this, we need your help, and you will give it to us."

"You seem a bit confident," the doctor pointed out, "Even though you should know by now that I'd never willingly help you carry out your plans."

"I think differently," she answered, "See, I'm not asking you to commit mass genocide, or murder, or anything so blatantly unethical. However, as you do know, we are about to face an immediate war, and I would wish your assistance. You are one of the Federation's brightest medical minds, and we will need your assistance if we are to counter the Teraknaar."

She removed from her shirt pocket a small vial, "I would trust you to keep this a secret from Odo, but the Founders have already been beset by a second plague. A good portion of them have already died and, if this is not stopped, their entire population will be destroyed within a few months."

"A few months?" Bashir asked, "What are you talking about? What happened?"

"The Teraknaar," she answered, studying the vial, "It seems they had agents within the organization. They got their hands on the disease, engineered a second virus from it, and released it into the Link. We need your help to concoct a cure."

"And why should I trust you?" he asked, "After all, this could all be another trick."

She looked at him, "If we wanted to destroy the Founders, we wouldn't be asking for your assistance. Actually, we wouldn't be going to you at all, knowing your own opinions on the subject."

Bashir nodded as he took the sample from her, "You make a good point. However, I have one more question, how did you get your hands on the sample?"

"Come now," she replied, "Do you really have to ask. You should know by now that we can get our hands on anything we require… However, if you must know, I have agents spread throughout the Dominion fleet. With their intelligence, it was quite easy to recreate the virus."

Bashir nodded, "I don't relish the prospects of rejoining your ranks, but I guess I don't have much of a choice. So be it. However, this does not mean I trust you."

She nodded, "Of course. Then again, Section 31 does not run on trust, does it?"

"I reckon it doesn't," Julian replied coldly, "I have one more question, however, before I take on this assignment."

"Of course."

"What do I call you?"

She locked her brown eyes on him for a moment before replying, "You can call me by my name, Adria. Well then, doctor, I'll be looking forward to working with you. And one more thing, welcome back."

With those words, she turned from him and left him alone. Adria turned and entered the corridors. The Dominion was a mess and, as the Chief Investigator of the Gamma Quadrant, the resolution of the problem ultimately fell to her. Nevertheless, things were looking beginning to look more positive, and she suspected she'd have good news when the she next spoke with the others.

L

"Let me out," Thvrar ordered, still in the form of Admiral Steven Kane, "Even assuming I were a spy, what your Captain has done goes well outside what is allowed by Protocol. He is more of a traitor than I am."

The Guard looked at him a bit and laughed, "Be quiet. As if Starfleet ideals could protect one of you. See, we're gonna get our answers from you so I would suggest you cooperate. This could be easy or hard. Your choice."

Thvrar shook his head, exasperated. It seemed that the Federation was more ruthless than he had given them credit for, and quite determined as well. He might need a miracle if he was to get out of this predicament, considering that he was trapped behind a containment cell, unable to do anything whatsoever without Corter's consent.

The doors opened and his captor stepped into the room. The guard saluted and stepped back.

"Thvrar. I must admit, I'm not too pleased with our progress," Corter stated coldly, "You should know by now that no one's coming to save you. Perhaps your people should have destroyed you when they had the chance, but rest assured, they're not finding you. Not out here, at least."

"Perhaps not," Thvrar replied, "But I still fear them much more than I fear you."

"Is that so?" Corter asked, "Then why, pray tell, did you surrender yourself in the first place?"

"A moment of weakness, no more."

Corter nodded, not entirely convinced, "Then I guess we'll just have to wait for our next moment of weakness, won't we?"

With those words, Corter walked up to one of the guard's and whispered into his ear. The guard nodded and began working with the controls. Moments later, Thvrar was hit by a tremendous electrical discharge. For a moment, it seemed as if his entire body was on fire, but only for a moment. Then, he slowly drifted into cool, gentle unconsciousness. Corter then removed from his sleeve a small computer chip and walked towards the containment field.

"If he's not going to be cooperative," Corter stated, placing the computer chip inside a medical injector and stepping towards the unconscious shapeshifter, "I believe it's time we started using stronger methods."

At his signal, the guard deactivated the containment field and Corter stepped inside, kneeling beside Thvrar.

"Trust me, you're going to tell us everything you know," he whispered into the shapeshifter's ear, before inserting the chip beneath his captive's skull.


	6. Strategy

VI: Strategy

Shipmaster Thvrada read through the data readouts, tracing the progress of the Dominion fleet as it neared its goal. If he had a face, he would be smiling. In a little under two weeks, the Federation and the Dominion would destroy each other, leaving him to take out the survivors. Thvrar had designed a clever scheme indeed; even if, at the moment, he had gone missing. Perhaps it was a little too successful. Thvrada had always relished the experience of a good fight but those prospects were gone now. Nevertheless, he reasoned, this was only the beginning, and a worthy opponent was bound to make an appearance eventually. His mind's eye caught on a certain file in particular and he accessed it. The schematics for a massive cube appeared before him.

The Borg. They possessed a technology far beyond that of the Federation and resources enough to turn any invasion into a drawn out war. The Borg had been the true reason for the Infiltrators. Thvrada had little doubt that, in the end, they would be his true adversary. He was looking forward to that battle in particular and already, before the war with the Federation had even begun, he was considering the strategy for this next encounter.

The data streamed before his eyes and he read what he saw. It appeared the Borg were somewhat similar to the Teraknaar: preoccupied with order and perfection. However, they were always striving to increase their collection: to add other voices to their own. They sought to constantly increase their technology and resources without limit. The sheer thought of such an opponent filled him with anticipation.

The Borg were an interesting foe indeed. A mistaken order, to be sure, but at least they were not in chaos. Not like these Alphas. The Alphas were many voices, many opinions constantly clashing, in permanent disarray. The Borg were a single voice with a single mindset. However, there was a flaw to their order, for order without dissent was stagnation. The Borg could adapt to what they had seen, but they didn't have an imagination. They who had once been organic had become machine and, in doing so, they had lost the very thing that had made them alive. It was easy to defeat a machine. You merely had to set it with a problem it could not solve.

The Teraknaar, however. Thvrada was certain that they represented a true Order. Many voices working together for the same goal. Unlike the Borg, however, there remained individuality, and there remained spontaneity. It was just subjugated under a greater vision, a greater philosophy and a greater purpose. The individual was placed beneath the group but not eradicated completely. That, along with Sirrthi technology, had been what had allowed the Teraknaar to conquer an entire galaxy and that would be the key to conquering the Borg as well. It would be the key to defeating any civilization foolish enough to oppose them.

A cold confidence settled in Thvrada's mindset. Yes, there was nothing to worry about. Their conquest was only a matter of time and nothing could stop it. Nevertheless, there remained, in the very back of his mind, a nagging anxiety that he had overlooked something. However, he could not quite ascertain what it was that bothered him so.

His fleet waited, poised just outside of the Federation's known space, waiting for one initial conflict to play out before instigating a second. Thvrada had always found the waiting game difficult but, for the moment at least, he felt inclined to comply with the Infiltrators' plans. It was the big picture that mattered and his own desires were trivial compared to that.

L

Captain Jean Luc Picard of the USS Enterprise stepped into the Council Room, accompanied by the Federation's ambassador to Qo'noS, Worf of the House of Martok. To either side of him, massed together perpendicular to the room's entrances, waited the Klingon elite, and, seated before him, waited the Chancellor of the Klingon Empire himself. However, Picard was not nervous. He had had many dealings with the Klingon High Council before and this was no different.

"Captain Picard," the Chancellor stated rising from his chair, "I am Martok and we have much to discuss."

"We do indeed," the Starfleet captain agreed, "I trust that you've been alerted to the conspiracy involving the Teraknaar infiltration and the ramifications that this discovery has on the entire Quadrant."

"Yes," Martok agreed, "But tell me, how do I know that these reports are accurate, Captain?"

"Starfleet is confident concerning their accuracy," the captain replied, "Already, a number of collaborators and even one of the Infiltrators have been detained and are under questioning. We have confessions concerning the rumors' veracity but, aside from that, we do not know very much."

"So, for all intents and purposes, we know nothing," the Chancellor concluded.

"I would suppose you can make an argument for that point," Picard agreed hesitatingly, "But that does not change the importance of our meeting today. Though at the moment we are ignorant of their plans, we do know they are up to something and, whatever it turns out to be, I think it is safe to assume we will not like it one bit. They intend to conquer all of us, Chancellor. Though we do not know much about them, that much is certain, and if we do not prepare for them now, their goal will most definitely be realized."

"You speak wisely Picard," Martok agreed, "But we both know that battles are won through knowledge as much as anything else. When you know the goals and plans of the enemy, victory will be assured. You came here, Captain, to plan for the war which is about to begin, but surely you realize that no plan can be made until we know what it is we will face."

"I do," Picard answered, "And I agree with your assessment fully. However, we do know some things and, from that, we can already predict where they will eventually strike and where they will most likely avoid. In short, we already have the intelligence we need to prepare our defensive."

"Really?" Martok asked, leaning in closer, focusing on what the Captain was about to say.

"We know their long term goals," Picard continued, "They hope to conquer the entire galaxy as quickly and expediently as possible. As a result, we can already discern their primary objectives: Earth, Romulus, Q'onoS. They will only attack those planets which present a strategic gain and they will move swiftly, decimating one and moving to another. And, once all of this has been achieved, the last place they will attack is…"

"Bajor," Martok said.

Picard nodded in agreement, "Bajor. When that has been accomplished, they can turn their sights on the Dominion immediately, and continue their conquest. They will move swiftly along their path without deviation, because they do not have the resources to support a drawn out war. We just have to stop them before they complete their campaign."

Martok nodded, "I see that your reputation is well earned, Captain. We will speak of this again. Q'apla."

Picard nodded, "Q'apla."

And then Picard was led out of the Council Meeting Hall, awaiting the next meeting concerning the Quadrant's defense.

L

Q watched as Picard and Worf made their way back into the streets outside and the Council turned their interests to other issues. He was invisible to mortal eyes, viewing from a vantage point that could only be perceived by another Q.

"Foolish mortals. Overconfident as ever," he observed, "Defeat a few tough foes and they think they can defeat them all. Well, I guess they're better than the Klingons. Their kind probably looks forward to the fight."

"The major question, however, is not whether or not they're overconfident but whether or not they'll survive long enough," a second observed, "As for you're criticism, I think it is necessary to some extent. Besides, they have a track record when it comes to defeating the odds."

"You're awfully self assured Q," the Enterprise's resident omnipotent pointed out, "I never would have thought you'd come down on our side."

"Rest assured, I agree with the rest of the Continuum. The mortal plane is beneath us. We are trying to escape the stagnation and find new avenues of enlightenment. We have evolved beyond the mortal coil; what can we gain from interfering with its progress?"

"How ironic, speaking about progress while ignoring the fact that it was my kind of thinking that led to our Renaissance. We cannot entirely overlook the mortals beneath us: it is in that realm that our evolution began."

"Oh, I don't disagree with you at all. However, you're not talking about studying them, you're talking about splicing causality and inserting a new string of events into the Universal Pattern. You're being selfish, Q. You and Amanda both and I cannot, in good conscience, allow these games of yours to continue unimpeded."

"You want the Teraknaar to triumph?" Q asked, "After everything that has happened and everything that someday might?"

"Of course not," the other omnipotent replied, "But I'd rather if our kind didn't interfere in such petty affairs to begin with."

Q watched as the Continuum's advocate disappeared, leaving him alone to observe the Council's debate. He shook his head and turned his attention towards the Andromeda Galaxy, looking through the Time Line as he considered what would be an interesting ploy. It would definitely prove helpful in the long run. Then, his future course planned out, he followed the other omnipotent back to the Continuum.


	7. Ruthless Measures

VII: Ruthless Measures

"Gamma. How goes your progress?"

"I just contacted Bashir," Adria replied, "However, he has proven agreeable… for the moment, at least."

She was seated before a Private Viewer, speaking directly to Section 31's leader, the Investigator of the Terran System, though she did not even know his name. For security purposes, none of the twelve Section 31 Investigators knew the others' identities. Recruitment, promotions, and even replacements were all highly localized. That way, if one of the Investigators were compromised, the other eleven would remain secure. Section 31 dealt in highly sensitive and extremely dangerous affairs. This security had proven itself necessary time and time again.

"Interesting," Terra replied, "To be honest. When you first insisted on this plan, I was quite doubtful. Congratulations, Gamma. Not even your predecessor was able to gain Bashir's cooperation. For this one moment at least, you surpassed even him. You've earned your stripes. Congratulations."

"Thank you Terra. So far, we haven't had much progress but I'm quite confident that a cure will be found by the time the Dominion crosses the Wormhole."

"Of course," Section 31's leader nodded, "I place absolute faith in you. However, there is another thing I must know. Have you received any intelligence on the Dominion itself: movements, strategy… anything that relates to their invasion itself?"

"It should still be a few weeks," she replied, "Are you going to alert Starfleet to the threat?"

He shook his head, "No. The true threat is the Teraknaar. We know that they created this threat for a purpose; likely to divert us from their true goal. If we leak this matter to Starfleet, they'd react by massing a fleet near the Wormhole, leaving us badly exposed elsewhere. Should the Teraknaar use that moment to attack, we'd be defenseless."

"I would have thought you'd be the last person to adopt this plan, Terra. You know all too well what the Dominion is capable of. If we let them enter this Quadrant unopposed, there won't be much of a Federation left to defend when the Teraknaar make their move."

"I'm aware of that," the Terran Investigator answered with calm assurance, "However, I am also aware of the resources you have at your disposal. I'm counting on you and your associates to take care of the Dominion. Do you think the Cure will be completed by the time the Dominion arrives?"

Adria frowned and thought for a moment, "I'm not sure. It depends on a lot of factors. For all we know, there might not be a cure."

"The Teraknaar cover their bases well. I concur. Unfortunately for them, Gamma, so do we. I know that you have agents scattered throughout their fleet. If they get too close, we'll need to resort to the more traditional methods. A few well placed bombs and specially timed accidents should destroy them, vanquishing the Dominion once and for all."

She nodded, "I hope the Cure will be completed in time, Terra."

"So do I," he agreed, "The Jem'Hadar are much more useful as allies than corpses."

"There are other matters," Adria stated with some hesitation, "Which I think should be discussed."

"Of course," Terra agreed, "What is it you need of me?"

"The Teraknaar Prisoner, formerly Admiral Steven Kane. Have you gained any intelligence from his captivity?"

The Terran Investigator shook his head, "Not yet, unfortunately. He has been most… unforthcoming. However, we've just changed our approach with him. At this very moment, I am preparing to take much stronger methods with him. Rest assured Gamma, we will have our answers soon."

She nodded before asking one last question, "And what will you do with them when you have them?"

Terra actually responded by chuckling, "Distrust. Appropriate really, but you should know the answer as well as I. When we're done with him, we'll leak the intelligence to Starfleet and let them take the final steps. Admiral Steven Kane may have been most disloyal to the Federation but I think we can be fairly confident that his efforts will ensure the continued prosperity of our civilization."

"I hope so."

He nodded, "There's no need to hope. It's a certainty."

With his assurances, the transmission terminated and she turned away from the Viewer and stepped out of her Quarters. Doctor Julian Bashir had agreed to assist her on this current project. She decided that she'd best check on his progress.

L

The guard stood in attention as the officer stepped into the room. He looked over the unconscious Admiral for a moment, concern reflecting in his eyes. Perhaps the Captain had chosen a high risk strategy but the Infiltrator had not been cooperating. Now, he just hoped that Kane would survive the operation.

"Sir, nothing's changed since your last appearance. The prisoner has been unconscious for the last two days. If I may ask, sir, what exactly is going on?"

Corter paused for a moment and waited while two technicians detached themselves from the shadows behind him.

"Deactivate the Security Field," Corter ordered sharply.

"Sir?" the guard asked, a bit confused.

"Now," Corter barked in response and the Guard complied, walking over to the controls and shutting down the Field.

"Do it," Corter ordered and the two technicians nodded, stepping in the confinement area and removing small, tricorder-like devices as they did so. After placing one of the devices on each side of the spy's cranium, the men began studying the readings which appeared on the monitor.

"What's going on?" the guard asked.

"That is classified information," Corter replied, waiting for the specialists to finish their inspection.

"He's breathing, Sir. It seems that he beat the odds," one of the two technicians stated.

"So you think he'll survive the procedure," Corter finalized.

"Yes Sir," the technician replied, "If the implant was going to kill him, it would have done so immediately. It looks like he'll live."

Corter breathed a sigh of relief, "Good. From now on, keep an eye on the progress of the download. I'm leaving you two in command of this operation. Tell me when it's completed."

"Yes sir."

Corter nodded and turned towards the thoroughly confused guard, "Raise the Confinement Field." He gestured towards the two technicians beside him, "Until I say otherwise, you are to take command from Specialists Samuelson and Grady here. Obey them as you would me."

"Yes sir," the Guard replied.

Corter nodded and then walked out of the room, extremely relieved. In the end, he had resorted to a highly dangerous and relatively untested method of data gathering. The Mind Implants were still highly theoretical but it seemed as if, in this case, they would work.

It was ironic, actually, that one of the Teraknaar Infiltrators, who had once been aware of everything, was now unaware of what was going on in his own body. While he lay unconscious, a small computer chip had been inserted in one of his neural pathways, monitoring his synaptic connections and transferring the accumulated memories into computer readable data.

In just one more day, Section 31 would know everything they needed to know about the Teraknaar threat and, in a few days more, Starfleet Command would receive the most critical of that intelligence. Now, he only needed to wait.

L

Julian held his head in his hands, reading over the files with an intense focus, trying to see if there was anything he had overlooked. However, there was so much information in front of him. In fact, to be honestly, there was far too much information, most of which was useless. The doctor shook his head. No, he had to get back to the basics. He had been able to find a cure for the first disease and this was just an alteration from the first virus. If he could only find where the changes had been made, he could have an idea where to begin. At the moment, however, he was clueless.

"Are you working on something, Julian?"

He smiled, recognizing the voice as he turned around to speak to his visitor, "Ezri. No, not at all."

"You can't mislead me Julian," she disagreed quickly approaching him, "I know you well enough to know when you are under a lot of pressure and at this moment you seem to be almost screaming for a vacation. Talk about a mood change, however. Just a few days ago, I would have said you needed to find some work to do but, right now, well… it's like you're in the war again."

Ezri drew right next to him and murmured her suggestion directly in his ear, "I remember that Jadzia was quite fond of Risa. I think that would be a nice place to visit for a few days, don't you? Who knows, perhaps we might even have ourselves a piece of jamaharon while we were at it…"

Bashir shook his head, rejecting her proposal, "I'm sorry, Ezri. The offer sounds very tempting but some very important work has come up recently."

She shook her head, "If you keep working like this, it's going to kill you someday."

Bashir nodded and plaintively replied, "Better me than several hundred strangers."

She shook her head and squeezed him on the shoulder. He would never change his ideals but, to some extent, his ideals were part of what she loved about him, "Be careful, Julian."

Her statement prompted Deep Space Nine's Chief Medical Officer to turn around to look on her, his eyes warm and his smile genuine, "Of course. I don't die that easily, Ezri. And I promise you, when all this is over, I will be taking you up on that vacation you proposed."

"I'll hold you to that," Ezri agreed as she left him to finish whatever work it was that he found so important.

L

Viran looked out into space; impatiently waiting for the final leg of the voyage to begin. Around him, the Jem'Hadar milled, also waiting for their chance at vengeance. For just a moment, he briefly wondered what would become of them in the days to come. Surely they knew their fate. Without ketracel-white, death for them was an uncertainty. He smiled as he thought about the carnage to come. It seemed that, like the Founders, this was going to be their last battle. One last glorious victory before extinction; for some reason he found it rather appropriate. They were going to meet their end as the warrior race they had been designed to be.

Viran, however, was not a Jem'Hadar. He was a Vorrta and, unlike them, it was not his place to fight the battles. It was his place to plan and orchestrate them. And that was exactly what he was going to do. He was going to plan and orchestrate the destruction of the entire Alpha Quadrant.

"I can see that you're predisposed. Did I come at a bad time?"

He turned around, surprised, to find a female Vorrta waiting for him, arms behind her back. She was around his age, maybe a bit older, but there was a calm rationality in her eyes that contrasted with the fervor that reflected from his like twin supernovas.

"Of course not," he replied, "Preparations are always difficult and good help can be hard to find. Besides, I'm certain the Founders sent you here…"

She nodded, "My name is Senar. As you assumed, I was sent by the Founders to help coordinate the Fleet. We are preparing for a major offensive, after all, and cannot afford to be lax in our efforts."

"I completely agree, Senar," he stated, offering her his hand, "And, on behalf of my subordinates, may I be the first to welcome you aboard."

"Thank you," she said, taking his hand, "I'll be looking forward to working with you."

"Likewise."

Neither of the two were aware that there was a growing discontent among the Jem Hadar and that, somewhere in the Fleet, Section 31, the Federation's most secretive agency, had found a weak link. And they were exploiting it.

L

Thltara watched through Klingon eyes as the Federation contingent, led by Captain Picard, left the Meeting Hall for the last time, quite pleased with the proceedings. He still did not know how Thvrar had messed the situation up but, at the moment, everything was still controllable. The Federation and its allies now knew about his peoples' existence but the enemy knew neither their position nor their capabilities. Nevertheless, there were still a few wrinkles in his vision that had to be patched and the first of these was his predecessor, Thvrar.

He still did not know what had possessed the former Leader of the Infiltration to spring his betrayal and, at first, he thought that, though Thvrar represented a threat, he was not an immediate one. After all, dealing with Thvrar would have presented serious risks and, with their resources spread out across an entire Quadrant, he had felt it more prudent to focus on other matters. Tracking the Federation's War Plans, negotiating with the Romulan Senate; these were the matters he had had to prioritize. At least, he had believed so at the time. Then Thvrar had disappeared from his confinement. His location was still a mystery.

There was only one Organization in the Federation capable of maintaining such a high degree of secrecy and ruthlessness in their projects. Section 31. They must have taken Thvrar, intent on pumping information from him. Considering their abilities, Thltara could not be sure just how loyal the former Infiltrator would prove himself. Thvrar had known almost everything, and now he had become a serious threat. Thltara turned away and stepped out of the Council Hall, resolute on the next course that had to be taken.

He'd have to turn his Infiltrators on Section 31, hunt down every division and destroy them. He had no idea how long it would take and time was against him but, at the moment, the Federation's rogue organization was the only thing outside of his control. Thvrar would have to die. So would everyone with whom he'd come into contact.

He closed his eye, intending to contact an agent deep within Starfleet Command. It was time he began his search and he would not stop until this threat was neutralized once and for all.

L

And the Q witnessed it all, divided in its opinion. There were a few who looked at the course of events with anxiety, for they saw value in what humanity represented: the adaptability and change which defined their species as a whole. There were a few who took a vastly different approach towards the conflict, and were hoping for mankind's destruction. These were the ones who viewed humanity as an annoyance, a distraction, or even a potential threat that would have to be annihilated sooner of later. However, the majority of the Continuum remained largely unconcerned. Humans were humans, mortal entities who, although they believed otherwise, had not progressed far beyond the single celled organisms from which their evolution began.

Amanda watched from the confines of the Continuum as events played out, reading into the chain of events as far as clarification allowed her, while preparing herself for what she had to do next. However, she was not the only Q who was watching and planning. There were others, and not all of them held humanity's survival in a positive light.

The Q watched, waited and planned. An invasion of the Alpha Quadrant was about to become something far greater now that the Q were getting involved. Not even they, however, could entirely see where things would end.

L

L

A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed. Reviews are appreciated and they motivate me to write more and update faster. Thanks to all of you and please keep it up.


	8. Preparing for War

VIII: Preparing for War

Captain Kor'ak almost laughed manically as he read over his orders. It seemed that Martok was finally willing to give him his share of glory. It was about time. He still remembered the Dominion War all too well, forced to protect Klingon shipyards well behind the front, unable to taste in any of the glories all honorable warriors deserved. He knew very well what Martok thought of him. The Chancellor believed him insane, reckless and impetuous. Kor'ak had to admit that, at some level, each of these criticisms was true but, then again, all warriors needed such a streak if they were to survive the chaos of combat. All warriors needed a small degree of madness to thrive in it. Kor'ak possessed a very large dose of it and, while there were some who believed it a shortcoming, Kor'ak viewed it as his greatest strength. He saw things no one else saw, opportunities others wouldn't even consider and, more often then not, his insights were proven correct. Perhaps Martok was finally beginning to realize that. He grinned even wider: then again, knowing Martok, this could all be some attempt to see him killed.

He could sense it even though he couldn't see it. Before every battle, he often felt a twinge of anticipation but this time, his expectations surged forward like a tidal wave. Whatever was coming, it was going to be intense: a force that would destroy anyone and everyone caught unprepared. He was ready for it and, like any respectable Klingon Warrior he was looking forward to it.

Kor'ak had already forgiven Martok for leaving him out of the last war. In his mind, Martok had already corrected that injustice by placing him in the middle of this new one and he could already tell that it was going to be a good one. His intuition told him that the Dominion War might well seem like a minor border skirmish in comparison.

L

Fleetmaster Traelyn stood within his vessel's command center, watching silently as the battleships passed. Rebellions had been breaking out all over as of late, spreading rapidly across entire sectors. Half of the Fleetmasters had been charged with suppressing one movement or another.

"Funny how the patterns cascade: one revolt inspires another and then another. Thousands have been murdered already and still no end appears in sight."

Traelyn turned around, completely surprised to find an intruder standing in the shadows. He was formless in the way of the Teraknaar but he lacked the strange, colorless substance that defined them all. It was as if he was made of nothing: just empty. It both terrified and intrigued the Fleetmaster.

"You do realize your attempt at disguise failed," Traelyn pointed out, calmly, to his visitor, who proceeded to laugh.

"Yes, you Teraknaar would think that, wouldn't you?" the second entity answered back and, in an instance, that intangible substance which defined Andromeda's conquerors appeared to seep into the visitor's entire being. "As you can see, however, I am fully capable of such menial tasks."

In an instant, the visitor's form shifted once again, this time into what could only be described as a complete abyss, and with a chuckle, he continued, "Luckily, I'm not quite in the mood to entertain deceptions. I'm sure you aren't either Traelyn."

This had surely caught the Fleetmaster by surprise, but as a leader in the Teraknaar hierarchy, he had been trained to control himself and his emotions. He would not give into intimidation, he would not give into surprise and he would not give into fear.

"Of course not," Traelyn replied instead, "So I'll ask you up front: who are you and what are you doing here?"

"Very blunt," the intruder answered, "Well spoken, highly controlled. It's quite a surprise to come across such a challenge… well it would have been if I hadn't known everything about you beforehand. You know, had things gone differently, we could have had so much fun…"

Still, Traelyn made no response and the intruder finally conceded, changing its form one last time, this time with a blinding flash of light. Traelyn, from various Infiltration Reports, immediately recognized the form.

"Human," he stated, "Middle aged, male, and dressed in the attire of a Starfleet officer. You sure are fond of impersonations, aren't you?"

The other individual grinned, "You're one to talk, Lord Fleetmaster. After all, you belong to a species that has defined itself over the millennia by taking other species' physical forms. True, you don't usually entertain this ability, but that doesn't change the fact that it is a defining characteristic of your species. For the moment, however, I'll concede your point. What can I say? Taking on the forms of the less advanced is, for lack of a better term, amusing."

"Quit the games," Traelyn replied, "We both know that you're here for a reason. Your actions scream of desperation and you try to hide it behind an intimidating façade. I know it won't work and if you think for a moment that it will, you aren't nearly as perceptive as you seem to think you are."

"Either that or I'm far more intelligent then you can possibly imagine," the second entity replied, "But, once again, I applaud you for such keen insight. As you guessed, there is a purpose behind our meeting: being an all powerful Fleetmaster, I'm pretty sure the High Command has filled you in on the invasion of the Milky Way galaxy. I don't think I have to tell you this, but a certain species I have invested great interest in is slated as their next conquest."

Traelyn smirked, "That's it, you're afraid for humanity."

The other entity smiled in response, "A simplistic approach to a much more complicated position. Personally, I like to think of myself as a kind of benefactor to their entire species."

Traelyn was silent for a moment as he put the blocks together. He had read some of Thvrar's reports over the years, as well as other intelligence reports that accumulated over time. This entity seemed to closely match the profile of another being that periodically accosted a certain Federation starship from time to time.

"I see you've finally figured it out," Q stated proudly, "Took you enough time. Yes, I am Q: self declared judge, prosecutor, jury and defendant of humanity. Congratulations, and you did it far sooner than I would have otherwise expected."

Traelyn nodded, "So, this is the mighty Q, self proclaimed omnipotent, verbally sparring with a lowly mortal and asking for assistance? Funny, I envisioned something far more magnificent based on your profile."

"And I would have envisioned someone far less confrontational," Q replied, "After all, you are responsible for genocide and murder at an interplanetary scale. Considering how much blood you have on your hands already, and how repulsed you are by it, I'd think you'd seek to avoid more diplomatic means of communication."

This statement seemed to his Traelyn where it hurt, as he just stared out into space, long repressed memories resurfacing within him. Finally, he spoke, "Q, leave. Leave now."

Instead, Q seemed to chuckle, "Everyone has their weaknesses. You should have known I'd find yours eventually if you kept pressing such verbal sparring. However, let us turn our minds from such horrendous and uncivilized things and turn back towards the reason for my visit. Do you remember what I first said when I appeared?"

Traelyn did not respond and after a few moments Q continued, somehow seeming to whisper his words directly into the Fleetmaster's soul, "You and I both know that the Teraknaar walk a path of self destruction. They keep conquering but they will eventually be swallowed by unrest. I give you a chance to prevent that. I give you a chance to preserve them and all the future generations that come after."

"And why should I believe you?" Traelyn answered with hostility, "Give me one good reason."

"Because," Q replied, "We both know that you have only two choices: trust me or allow the future to unravel as it will. Now, I'll be honest with you, we both know I'm not the most sincere omnipotent being in the universe, but you also know that this will be the only chance you'll ever get to make your breakthrough and commit to your own personal universal worldview. I leave the choice up to you. You'll have a few more months, Traelyn, before a friend of mine sends the future into your care. Until we meet again."

And seconds later, Q was gone and the Teraknaar Fleetmaster was left to consider what he had said, and make his decision accordingly. Given the circumstances, it was not much of a choice. He only hoped that Q would be more open in their forthcoming meetings then Federation records had painted him in the past


	9. Looking unto the Future

IX: Looking unto the Future

Captain Thomas Corter listened to the musical recordings in silence, as the compositions of the eighteenth century human composer Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart played from the computer. Thvrar had shown a great predilection for his music, playing it quite frequently while he was still in the guise of Admiral Steven Kane. It was quite surprising, really. Corter never would have expected one of the Federation's most dangerous enemies' to exhibit a taste for Classical Terran music. Funny, how much obvious knowledge is proven false over a single lifetime.

His musings were interrupted by another Section 31 officer, "Sir, the download is complete. We are already transferring the records to our mainframe."

Corter nodded, rising from his seat, "Excellent. What is your progress on the matter?"

"It is almost complete sir. Thirty more minutes give or take, and then we'll know everything there is to know about them."

The Terran Investigator allowed a small smile. Things were looking up it seemed, "That's some excellent news. Be sure to contact Gamma, send her any information that might help with the virus."

"Yes sir," the officer replied, but he was stopped by his commander.

"One last order before you leave," Corter replied, "Thvrar is a threat that is no longer necessary. Once the transfer is complete, terminate him. He poses a risk we can not afford to underestimate."

"Yes sir," his subordinate stated one last time before leaving. Corter watched him go, pleased with the general turnings of events. Yes, things were looking up indeed. Perhaps, the Federation might still triumph after all.

L

Senar stepped onto the bridge, coming to a stop before the warship's commander, "Viran, one of the Founders wishes to speak with you."

"Of course," he stated, not quite certain why one of the Founders would wish to speak with him. He was just a Vorrta after all. Definitely not the kind of person fit to speak with a god. Nevertheless, orders were orders and he was not someone to ignore such summonses.

And so he stepped out from the warship's command center, leaving the female Vorrta in temporary command. Quickly, without bothering to slow down, he weaved his way through a small contingent of Jem Hadar, as he made his way into the bowels of the warship.

Finally, he came to a stop before a rather inconspicuous looking door. Without a second thought, he entered inside. The sight that met him almost made his blood run cold him.

It was a Founder or, to be more accurate, it was the living corpse of one. It quite literally appeared to be breaking apart, and the only spark of life that it still possessed shone from its eyes. However, even its eyes were dim and fading.

"The first Virus was much slower," the Changeling specified, noting his reaction, "Already a third of our number have fallen and I doubt half the survivors will make it to the Wormhole."

The Changeling's explanation, however, only heightened the Vorrta's rage. The Federation: they had grown out of control and now they were even trying to destroy Founders. It had happened once before and this people had been foolish to think they wouldn't do so again.

"This is what you get for trusting unproven solids," the dying shapeshifter specified, "As well as those who willingly associate with them. They use deceit and trickery. It is the way all members of their quadrant operate."

"It was a mistake," the Vorrta solemnly agreed.

"It is not the place of a Vorrta to criticize a Founder," the changeling snapped through intermittent coughing fits, "Nevertheless it is true we made an error, extending our trust to a people who should, by all accounts, have been destroyed. Now, we are dying in their stead. The Great Link demands vengeance, Viran. Make sure you give us what is ours."

"Of course," Viran agreed coldly, "I will do whatever it is you desire, Founder."

The Founder nodded, "You are our heirs, created to be our lieutenants and, if necessary, our successors. Remember that when the fleet arrives. The future lies with the Vorrta."

A dangerous gleam appeared in Viran's eye as he replied, "Then I will make it a bloody one."

L

Odo waited somewhat impatiently. Even though he knew all too well the current state of affairs, and in a way he catalyzed this new tension and state of anxiety, that didn't mean he entirely accepted it.

"Computer, what time is it?" he asked, but changed his mind, "Then again, never mind." It was better if he didn't know how late Kira was running. He didn't blame her, of course. She was the commander of this station, after all. Even in peacetime, it carried certain responsibilities but here, in the period just preceding a war, those responsibilities rose into an entirely new stratosphere.

Besides, it wasn't Kira that he was entirely uneasy about it or, to be more precise, it wasn't directly about Kira. They had made dinner plans only three days ago and, as he waited for her to arrive, he could not keep himself from envisioning everything that could possibly go wrong. He was, to say the least, feeling decidedly uneasy.

"Well Odo, it's been a while since we last talked. Don't worry about your plans with Kira. She'll get here as soon as she can and I can guarantee that everything will go perfectly fine."

He immediately recognized the speaker and turned to see a blond headed teenager standing against the wall beside him, arms crossed, looking either at nothing in particular or something he didn't have the capacity to see or comprehend.

"Amanda," he greeted, "You seem to be as well informed as ever. Tell me, what is it about me that so holds your interest?"

The younger individual seemed to struggle to find a response to his question. Though Odo was neither telepathic nor omniscient, as her people appeared to be, he could still tell that his question had struck a nerve, and invoked issues that she wasn't prepared yet to deal with.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, "You're not to blame. Still, these are stressful times, and I guess it's getting to everyone's heads."

"It's all right," she replied, half heartedly, "Don't worry about it. Everything's fallen into chaos."

He nodded, "That seems an adequate way of putting it. However, I always thought your people were supposed to be beyond such problems."

"If only it was that simple," Amanda answered, "The Continuum has gone through some changes recently, and this issue is only serving to exacerbate problems already present. Besides, Kira should be arriving pretty soon now. Enjoy your time together. Moments such as these will be hard to find in the days to come."

Odo nodded, and in a flash of light, she was gone. He shook his head, realizing he'd never fully get used to that.

"Odo," Kira's voice interrupted his attention, "I see you've been patient. Thank you, by the way. So, shall we be going?"

Odo nodded, pointing out the way, "Of course. I'm ready if you are."

Both the Bajoran colonel and the estranged Founder were determined to make the most out of this opportunity. After all, considering the prospect of war hanging over their heads, it could very well be the last such opportunity they'd ever get.

L

"Chief Investigators of the Gamma Quadrant, Temporal Anomalies, Spacial Anomalies, Romulus, Cardassia, Q'onoS, Feringinaar, Tholia, Breen, Borg, Research, and Crime: speaking is Chief Investigator Terra. This is a Class 1 transmission. I repeat, this is a Class 1 Transmission. Highest level security, highest level classification. By order of the Federation Charter, Section 31, this meeting is now called in session. Respond so we might begin."

"Gamma here," stated the lone female.

"Temporal anomalies here."

"Spacial anomalies here."

"Romulus here," one Vulcan confirmed.

"Cardassia here."

"Q'onoS here."

"Feringinaar here."

"Tholia here."

"Breen here."

"Borg here."

"Research here."

"Crime here."

"Terra here," Corter finalized, "Now, shall we get down to business? The interrogation of Admiral Steven Kane, true name Thvrar, has been completed. I have gathered you all here to consider the intelligence we have gained, and what information to pass on to Starfleet proper."

"I take it you had to resort to the mind probe?" the Romulan investigator asked, "More conventional strategies would not have gained success so quickly."

"Then it was a success?" the Borg investigator stated, quite impatiently. He had wanted to get his hands on the technology for some time.

"You seem excited about this," Romulus observed.

"Of course. Think about it, when facing a species that has merged itself with machine in order to integrate with its own technology, what better weapon is there against it then a computer chip?"

"So that's why you wanted us to design those implants," Research mused, "I must say, your strategy holds a lot of merit. I'll be sure to let you know when we complete our research."

"On to our actual business," Corter interrupted, "I am currently transmitting the intelligence to you. It should be finished downloading in a few minutes. In the meantime, I will try to summarize what we know already: only the most important points of which we will be passing up the chain of command."

"It would be foolish to give them everything," the Cardassian investigator agreed, "Doing so would only cause Starfleet to overreach itself fighting ghosts."

"Exactly," Corter agreed, "As for the Teraknaar themselves, we've learned that they are a species that has a twisted worship of order. They see themselves as saviors, rather then conquerors, incessantly expanding the size of their domains through an almost unending string of conquests. Their arrival in our galaxy was achieved during the era of Captain James T. Kirk. Tell me, do any of you have any knowledge concerning a certain encounter with an alien civilization known as the Kelvans?"

"Kelvans?" the Tholian investigator paused for a few moments, "The term rings a bell but I can't quite figure it out."

"It was in the year 2268," Romulus clarified, "They were discovered by Captain James T. Kirk, attempting to escape the Andromeda Galaxy, citing rising radiation levels for their exodus."

"Precisely," Corter agreed, "Unbeknownst to any of us, however, the Kelvans weren't alone. Rather, they unintentionally brought the Teraknaar with them. As we know now, Infiltrators have advanced shapeshifting abilities. Though it does take effort, they can even appear invisible if they choose to. From what we've surmised, they're initial goal was to infiltrate the Kelvans but, when they were transplanted to this galaxy, they quickly updated their plans. From what Thvrar has told us, the Kelvans didn't last more than a few decades and, after consolidating their hold in Andromeda, they sent a small fleet after us."

"Fascinating," the Romulan investigator said, "It seems then that their spies don't have the weakness that undermined the Founders: limited stamina."

"It would be most difficult to find a way to counter that advantage," Research pointed out, "Considering that they can be anyone at anytime."

"True," Corter replied, "But we do have the advantage of knowledge. We know everything about them. Where their fleets are gathered, how powerful said fleets are, and their current campaign and infiltration strategies."

"That's not an advantage," Gamma disagreed, "It's equal footing."

Corter ignored the remarks, "All this being said, you'll soon have all the information you can ask for on the enemies. The Teraknaar have been controlling everything up to this point. Now, it's time for us to do the same. In one week, we shall reconvene to discuss our progress and what measures must be taken. Meeting adjourned."

With those words, the Terran investigator turned off the monitor and went back to study the readout he had downloaded out of a Teraknaar infiltrator's mind. At the moment, it was clear that the Federation was at a vast technological disadvantage. Nevertheless, no civilization was without its weaknesses, and Corter was determined to find the Teraknaar's.

L

Captain Alexis Wood stared out of the Viewer, looking at the point in space that the wormhole occupied. The Bajorans called it the Celestial Temple. Funny, she reasoned, considering how much blood had already been, and might still be, shed over it. Hers had been one of the first starships to arrive in the system but, in the weeks since she had taken up the post, a veritable fleet of Klingon, Cardassian and Federation vessels had begun patrolling the area. It was ironic, but war had a tendency to bring people together. It had been proven true previously and it was being proven true again.

"Captain," her communications' officer interrupted her musings, "We have a message. It's from Starfleet Command."

"Relay it to my Ready Room," she instructed before leaving the bridge.

"Aye sir."

Only minutes later, the Excalibor had set in a new course towards Romulus. It so happened that they were about to receive a Representative from the Empire's Senate. It seemed as if the Romulans were finally getting involved in the war effort. Alexis didn't entirely trust the Romulans, but she suspected that she had faced Teraknaar technology before, and was not eager to face the same thing again. Frankly, she was looking forward towards all the help she could receive.

L

Doctor Julian Bashir was huddled over the simulations, trying desperately to salvage some form of a cure, knowing all too well that it was a nearly hopeless task. Without any knowledge concerning the virus's genetic makeup and knowing that time was rapidly running out on him, he had no choice but to assume that it was a nearly hopeless assignment. Yet, here he was, working on it anyway. A hopeless task yet it was dominating his every waking thought.

He heard the sound of the automatic doors opening and didn't even need to turn around to figure out who had entered. The two had met so many times now that he could recognize her just by the sound of her near silent footsteps. Adria. Without turning around from his work, he greeted her in a sardonic and unforgiving tone of voice, "You know what the most interesting thing about working for a soulless and immoral organization such as Section 31 is?"

"What?" the young woman replied, feeling it better to humor him given the stress he had been under.

"Even when you think they've finally given up on you, they still show up with one more scheme and, even when you think you've finally gained the experience to resist them, you discover that you're still leaping through the hoops they've set."

"Then I take it there's still been no progress on the antivirus?" Adria asked, leaning over him to study his progress.

"You be the judge."

Adria frowned as she read over the data, "Indeed. I have good news though, Doctor. We've achieved a breakthrough."

"What do you mean?" Bashir asked, though deep down, he sensed that he didn't want to know the details.

She grinned as she tossed him a PADD, "Recent efforts had unlocked the genetic code of the Teraknaar virus. I figure we've come a few steps closer to success?"

"It brings us a bit further than that," Bashir replied, studying the readout with newfound passion, "I take it when all this is over, you'll stay out of my life once and for all?"

"Of course," Adria replied brightly, "At least until we need your assistance again."

Things were finally looking up.


	10. Rhetorical Questions

X: Rhetorical Questions

"It's not long now," Senar observed before taking a sip from the glass she held in her right hand, watching all the while as the stars soared past as her vessel traveled through warp.

"No, it's not," a second figure, still hanging behind in the shadows, replied, "But what will you do, though, once our fleet crosses the wormhole, and engages the species of the Alpha Quadrant?"

"What do you think I'll do?" Senar answered, "I'll fight."

"Even knowing the futility of it?" the second individual pressed on, "Even knowing that, assuming that this crusade actually is successful, it will still doom us all in the long run? We do not have the numbers to defend two entire quadrants, and the effort to do so will inexorably cause insurrections across both Quadrants."

"What are you trying to say?" Senar asked, turning around and addressing the room's other inhabitant directly. It was another Vorrta, female like her, though to be honest, Senar didn't entirely recognize her.

The second Vorrta shrugged, "This wild goose chase they've set us on is madness. Surely we both know this. I'm certain you also recognize how this foolishness will doom the Dominion as a whole. We need to take action now. You know that as well as I."

Senar narrowed her eyes, knowing all too well what the woman was suggesting, "You speak of treason."

"It's dangerous to say such things," the second Vorrta replied mercilessly, "Besides, we've been studying you for a while now and we know that, deep down, you harbor these same thoughts. You are uncertain and unconvinced. You know what I speak is true and you know what I suggest must be implemented."

"Then you think wrong," Senar replied, hostility edged in her voice, "I am not a traitor."

The other woman nodded in response, "We knew you'd say that, but know this: there is poison everywhere. Plotting and scheming which was initiated by an enemy you can't even conceive of. They can be anyone, anywhere."

Senar shook her head, "You're speaking nonsense. Besides, if you knew that I wouldn't follow you, why did you come here?"

"Because, though we are present, we aren't nearly numerous enough yet. However, our numbers grow every day, and some among us suggest that, if given the proper push, you'll come over as well. You'd make an invaluable member Senar. There aren't nearly enough Vorrta in our ranks as it is, and you possess exceptional skills which would prove most useful. Until next time, we'll keep in touch."

Senar watched the other woman leave, waiting until she had fully left the room before alerting the Jem Hadar to the traitor. However, before she even had the chance to do so, she felt her strength waning immediately and soon afterward, Senar had blacked out.

L

"It was poison," Viran observed as she slowly awoke moments after. He had a troubled expression on his face. It looked quiet unnatural, Senar had to confess, to see him with concern rather than madness etched out on his face.

"How is that possible?" Senar asked, somewhat confused, "I thought we were immune to poisons."

"Most poisons," he specified, his tone dark and foreboding, "It seems, however, that there is someone present within the fleet who knows of an exception."

"How long was I out?"

"Two days," he answered, "Did you get a glimpse of anyone unfamiliar; anyone who might have been responsible for this?"

Senar nodded as she struggled to remember the incident. She could recall everything that was spoken and everything that transpired, but she could not yet summon a face. She couldn't remember what the traitor looked like.

"There was someone else in my quarters that day," Senar replied, "She wanted me to betray the fleet."

"What did she look like?" Viran asked, a bit more passionately this time. She could see the madness returning into his eyes as he stood over her, hands on her shoulders, trying to shake an answer out of her.

"I… I can't remember. I'm sure that if we checked the records, we'd find the culprit."

He shook his head dejectedly as he backed off, "A computer virus was unleashed across the fleet just hours before your encounter. All of our records for that day have been erased."

"So we have a traitor onboard and no idea who or where this person is?" Senar asked dejectedly.

He nodded and replied, in a similar tone, "Nothing ever goes as planned."

Senar nodded, keeping to herself the fact that, at some level, the traitor's words still reverberated in her mind. As much as she despised herself for doing so, she couldn't help but recognize that, buried somewhere beneath all that treachery, a certain degree of truth dwelled in the conspirator's words.

Elsewhere in the fleet, a female Vorrta was staring at the cup from which Senar had drunk from only days before. It had been almost too easy to poison her follow Vorrta: she, like her species, were arrogant in such matters. She let the cup drop to the floor to shatter into a thousand unrecognizable pieces. A single drink had allowed her to confront Senar safely. It was not a particularly lethal concoction, but powerful enough to knock someone out for a few days while impairing certain facets of the victim's memory. Her target would remember everything that had been said but certain details, such as faces or clothing, would be far more difficult, nary impossible, to recall. Section 31 would be pleased to hear her progress. She had told the truth about there not being enough operatives on the fleet, especially among the Vorrta.

She had the feeling that, in the end, Senar would make an invaluable addition to their still small but growing resistance.

L

Data was busy calculating various scenarios as quickly as his processors could follow them, using the computer terminals to assist him as he did so. The Enterprise was the Federation's flagship and Starfleet Command intended to use it in the Quadrant's defense. His nimble fingers danced across the keypad while his eyes scanned the continuously summoned data.

"So, have you found anything yet?"

The pale skinned android turned his head around, surprised at the interruption. Standing behind him, waiting for an update, was the Enterprise's First Officer. Data quickly turned his attention back towards the readouts and, while still working on the problem, he answered Riker's question.

"No, Sir. It is a rather difficult quandary you have set me upon, Commander. This is not an easy task: trying to find a means to counteract an enemy we know nothing about it."

Riker nodded, "Trust me, I know. Can you get it done?"

The android paused for thought before he gave his response, "I do not know, Sir. I can assure you that I have prepared numerous battle strategies exploiting the relative advantages of Klingon and Federation technology but, to be honest, I can not entirely say how effective they would be. I have also taken the region assigned us into account but, as I stated before, I have no true certainty about any of this."

Riker nodded, "That's all right. You're being more constructive then any of us humans."

"Well, to be fair…"

"That's enough Data," Riker silenced the android authoritatively before he could elaborate on the subject, "Get back to work. We have no idea if any of your theories actually will work to our advantage but we can't really tell whether or not they won't either."

"Yes sir."

L

Captain Picard stood in his Ready Room, staring out into subspace. He had always been struck by the wonder of the universe and, at a very profound level he was at times even saddened to see it so frequently torn apart by war. Nevertheless, even though humans had grown past its useless aggression, other spacefaring races surely hadn't and, if the explorers were to continue mapping out the unknown, there were risks they had to accept.

"Ah Jean Luc, I'm so touched that after all these years, you're finally starting to take my advice to heart."

"What the devil are you talking about?" Picard asked, turning around to find an all too familiar presence lying on his couch, staring back at him, looking all too pleased with himself.

"Oh Mon Capitaine, don't tell me you forgot already…" Q replied before teleporting right behind him.

"It's not safe out here," Q whispered in his ear, "It's wondrous, with treasures to satiate desires both subtle and gross, but it's not for the timid."

Picard frowned, recognizing the statement from one of his previous encounters with the omnipotent, "How can I forget? Your antics got several of my people killed."

"Oh Picard, I never pictured you as one who'd hold a grudge… I prostrate myself before your mercy, begging forgiveness."

Picard was not surprised when the immortal entity duplicated his words with an elaborately over the top display of proscognesis. The Captain shook his head. Q was certainly an annoying prankster, but he always had a purpose behind his actions. After enough encounters with this strange life form, it was a conclusion that had come to him almost naturally.

"Well Q, what exactly brings you here this time?" Picard asked, taking a seat behind his desk to face the immortal.

"Oh, mon capitaine, I'm not allowed to have a simple conversation with an old friend?"

Picard laughed, "Not at all, but I figure that, with what's at stake, you don't have time for such pleasantries. If you did, I'm certain Amanda would find some task for you."

"Very perceptive," Q sneered, "But true. She's been rather uppity recently: under a lot of stress you know."

"That's a good thing," Picard replied, "It means she cares: that she has something she is willing to devote herself entirely to. And I believe, deep down, so do you."

Q give Picard a smile, "You are indeed perceptive, Captain. It seems you've grown a bit since our little shouting matches. Still, part of me misses those days."

Picard shook his head, "In times like this, I have neither the time nor the inclination for arguments. I suspect that you don't either. After all, if we go down, you'll loose one of your finest sources of entertainment."

"It's funny," Q observed, "I never thought you'd one day accept your place in the universe so freely."

"I never said that you were correct in your assessment," Picard answered, "But that doesn't change the fact that you need us. So, instead of semantics, why don't we try to solve whatever dilemma it was that brought you here."

"Very well," Q agreed, "A question first, if you will. Assume that Starfleet gave you a misguided and utterly pointless assignment and your only chance of survival lay in disobeying it, would you do so?"

"That doesn't seem like a difficult question," Picard pointed out.

"This is important Jean Luc," Q snapped, "You have no idea what's at stake!"

Picard was taken aback by Q's outburst but, after a moment, he answered the question, "Yes. If the choice came between the Chain of Command and necessity, I'll choose necessity every time."

"Thank you," Q replied. Just before disappearing, he had one last statement to give: "And by the way, be sure to remember that question in the future."

And then moments later, Q was gone, leaving Picard alone once again, puzzling over Q's recent problem. Had he really only come to ask such a pointedly obvious, and relatively superficial, question? Or was there something deeper in the visit that lay deep under the surface.

He sighed and decided to contact his Command Officers. Perhaps together they'd be able to make sense of this most recent puzzle.


	11. The Completed Cure

XI: The Completed Cure

Amanda Rogers looked across at the planet from the vantages of the Cliffside above. Q appeared behind her, not entirely surprised to see her there. Beneath them, stood a small but beautiful settlement marked by gleaming towers nestled in the wilderness that surrounded them.

"Well, I'm back," he replied, "Though I must say, I don't think he entirely understood what I was trying to tell him."

"That's fine," she replied, "He's still in the dark about much of this. I don't think he's ready to know entirely what he's up against."

"The Teraknaar," Q agreed before laughing, "So, this is the legacy of the Sirrthi? I must say, it's not that impressive. I was expecting something more magnificent from one of their cities."

"Perhaps," Amanda replied, "But they are almost extinct. They don't have the empire they once did but, fortunately, they did survive."

Q looked at her suspiciously, "You know, rumors have been spreading through the Continuum that you were somehow involved in that affair."

"Unproven rumors," she stated defensively, "Besides, that was when I was still learning how to control my powers. I wasn't a full member of the Continuum yet, so I didn't know the rules yet."

"If you say so," Q answered, "Still, loopholes are such wonderful things."

"Unfortunately, sometimes they are the only way to get things done," she agreed, "By the way, I listened in on your conversation with Picard."

Q feigned shock for a moment before turning his attention back towards the city, "I don't see why. We both knew how he'd respond."

"Still," she stated, "I'm glad he said yes. It should make things somewhat easier."

"Assuming the others don't mess everything up. The second faction has begun to take action and they know what we plan to do. You'd better be careful Amanda. If you're not careful, you might lead them into a trap."

Amanda nodded, "I know, but even if you are correct, what choice do I have? We both know what the final result would be otherwise."

Q nodded as he observed the planet's skyline, "It will be a race to the bitter end, and if our side loses, well… let's just say that the Federation's chapter in history will come to a close."

"Funny, it seems the kind of affair you would normally revel in."

"I would," Q agreed, "But then again, you're not the only one who has a lot at stake."

"Isn't that true?" Amanda asked no one in particular as she rose from the ground and turned away from the vision below, "How ironic that a culture with such a passionate reverence of order would utilize such chaotic tactics."

"Indeed but, then again, all mortals possess some degree of hypocrisy. It's what makes them interesting. That being said, however, I would think you'd have better things to do then sit on a cliff side, observing the Sirrthi?"

Amanda laughed, "Perhaps, but then again, they are the critical piece in this puzzle and we knew I'd have to contact them eventually…"

Q smirked, "You're going to exploit your unique position in their species' history, aren't you?"

Amanda nodded gravely, "Unfortunately, they've become highly isolationist in recent times and at the moment things really need to change, both for our sake and theirs."

Q nodded proudly, "Well then, what are you waiting for?"

Amanda nodded before taking her leave, taking a path down to the technologically advanced city below.

L

Captain Jean Luc Picard, noticing that each of his Senior Officers had taken their position in the Briefing Room, decided it was time to bring them up to speed with recent events.

"I think you should all know this," he began, "But I was paid another visit by Q."

"Q?" Riker asked, "What did he want this time?"

"I still don't know," Picard answered, "He seemed remarkably intent on posing a simple question, however: how loyal would I be to Starfleet if they issued impractical or suicidal orders?"

"It is possible that Q is alluding to a situation that you will face in the near future," Data opined.

"Is it possible that it might have something to do with the Prime Directive?" Riker asked.

"I doubt it," Picard replied, "If war does break out, exploratory efforts would come to a virtual standstill. No, there is something deeper behind the question. At the moment, I'm inclined to agree with Commander Data."

"It makes sense," Riker admitted, "Starfleet is hardly infallible. The question is, if the choice lies between them and Q, which road do we take?"

"Surely we wouldn't follow Q?" Beverly asked.

"He is hardly the most trustworthy individual," Troi observed thoughtfully, "But our more recent encounters suggest that his motives might have some quality of benevolence. Still, he is also quite apathetic when it comes to human lives. What is best for him may not be in our best interests."

"It depends on the scenario," Picard admitted, "We just have to decide on what option looks best at the time, and trust the decision."

"So we might end up defying Starfleet?" Riker asked not entirely keen on that prospect.

Picard frowned, "If we have to. At the moment, however, I would suggest that we all focus on the task at hand. There is no way we can truly prepare for this choice of his so, with that in mind, I would suggest that you all focus on your own individual tasks. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

"It is a rational supposition," Data replied, "Though I should point out that spurious decisions have a tendency to wreck havoc."

"I know that," Picard admitted, "But if we get too carried away with possibilities, we lose track of the here-and-now. Besides, over thinking has consequences all its own and, in our current situation, it serves no purpose anyway.

"Does anyone have anything else to contribute?" Picard asked and, noticing the relative silence, he ended the meeting, "Dismissed."

L

"Well Doctor, I came here looking for some good news. I hope you can meet my expectations."

Bashir looked up towards his visitor, "Adria, how interesting. You were just the person I wanted to see."

"So, I take it you're finally warming up to Section 31?" she asked conversationally. If she could obtain his loyalty, he'd become an invaluable resource and, with his intelligence, perhaps even an Investigator one day.

His eyes turned glacial at the thought.

"Of course not," he replied coldly as he handed her a vial, "It's just that I had something you'd better take to your bosses."

She smiled as she took the container and stared at it for a few moments. Hidden inside was a colorless liquid and she immediately had her suspicions as to what it was.

"So I take it you completed the cure."

Bashir nodded as he removed several files and handed her them as well, "These are the readouts as to the anti-virus's construction. I'm certain you'll find all the data you need to produce more."

She nodded, "It seems my faith in you wasn't misplaced."

Bashir leaned back, relieved that his task was finally over, "It wasn't easy, you know, reverse engineering a cure from scratch. However, the information you supplied was key, and I am relying on you to make sure that this cure gets where it's supposed to. Nevertheless, don't ever misplace reliance for trust. I'll never trust you, nor would I ever join you."

She shook her head but could tell that this wasn't getting anywhere anyway, "So be it, Doctor Julian Bashir. On behalf of Section 31, I thank you from your efforts. If you ever do change your mind, however, I'll be sure to keep in touch."

Bashir seemed surprised at her reaction, which he pointed out stating, "I'm surprised you gave up as easily as you did."

"I'm not Sloan, Doctor," Adria replied as she turned away from him, "Unlike him, I know a lost cause when I see one. You're too idealistic for this work and far too stubborn. You see the universe for what it should be, rather than what it is. Section 31 will always be looking for people of your abilities, Doctor, but not for people of your outlook. Frankly, you would represent more of a threat than your worth. Sloan learned that lesson the hard way. I don't intend to."

"Very progressive," Bashir granted before adding, in a hopeful tone, "So does that mean this is the last time I see you again?"

"Not at all," she replied, turning around briefly, "You of all people should know that the future is too unpredictable to make such promises."

Then, cure in one hand and the files in the other, she left the Infirmary, intent on getting in contact with the others and making sure that the files made their way to her Dominion-based allies. Things were finally looking up, she thought to herself. Perhaps a Dominion-Federation alliance against the Teraknaar was still yet possible, assuming that it was not already too late.

Either way, the Dominion was about to cross the wormhole and she fully intended to be back in the shadows when they arrived. That sentiment in mind, she quickly made her way to the nearest departing transport ship. Bashir had played his part and, for the moment, he, along with his entire station, was of no more importance to her.


	12. Before the Attack

XII: Before the Attack

"Gamma," Corter greeted as he arrived in the Communication Room, somewhat surprised to be unexpectedly contacted, "It's rare to see you show this initiative. I take it then that you have good news to report?"

"Affirmative," Adria replied, "The cure has been completed."

Terra paused for a moment, as he considered the implications of this piece of news, "An important breakthrough. I would say things are looking up, don't you?"

A grave tone entered Gamma's voice as she voiced her response, "No, sir. If anything, this makes the situation somewhat more complicated. If we had succeeded earlier, than perhaps we would have been able to convince the Founders of our innocence but, at the moment, I feel it is too late."

"What do you mean?" Corter asked.

"Terra. For all intents and purposes, the Dominion is here. I have agents throughout their fleet and they will cross through the wormhole before the end of the day. It is also true that the Teraknaar have been able to plant a high degree of anti-Federation sentiment among the Founders and their subordinates. Frankly, the anti-virus is the only thing that can reverse this antagonism. Unfortunately, though we know now how to construct the cure, it will take much longer than a day to synthesize and distribute the cure."

"So then, what would you suggest?"

Gamma sighed. Clearly, she showed some degree of anguish. Corter shook his head, disappointed. Such a struggle had no place in Section 31 and, if it resurfaced in the future, he may have to consider her a threat, and see her accordingly replaced. Finally, she spoke.

"At this point, the only course of action is sabotage. We'll have to destroy the bulk of their fleet before they cross through the Wormhole. I doubt we'll be able to get all their ships but we should weaken their fighting strength significantly."

Corter nodded, "This is your suggestion?"

"Yes sir," she answered, this time with finality.

"Excellent. See that it's done. I'm looking forward to an update."

"But of course, Terra."

With that said, Gamma terminated the connection and Corter was left to consider the Teraknaar. That was the real threat and it was a threat he was determined to neutralize.

"Computer, bring up File One Delta Alpha," he declared, "Security Clearance Red, Identification Code 4876-53-462."

The computer complied with his order and swiftly brought up the results of Thvrar's mind probe. All that they knew on the Teraknaar was on it and, as he read over the records, he was certain that somewhere there was a hint towards a weakness. All he had to do was find it.

And all Section 31 operatives, regardless of rank, held a unique talent for discerning such secrets.

L

Laylin stepped out of the transporter, calm and composed. Always the deceiver, he had once again been assigned a mission of subterfuge. The Tal Shiar agent looked before him, finding a woman and a man in Starfleet uniforms waiting for him. Though the man was a giant, towering over both of the others, it was the woman who drew his eye, and in whom he immediately noticed the signs of leadership capability.

"I take it that you're Captain Wood?" he asked the woman, noticing her captain's insignia.

"I am," the woman replied and gestured towards the second individual, "This is my Security Officer Lieutenant Ivan Amarov."

He nodded, "I am Laylin."

"We know who you are," Amarov replied.

Laylin chuckled at the Security Officer's response, "I take it you don't trust Romulans then?"

"I don't trust the Tal Shiar," he corrected, his eyes burning with hate.

"Please forgive my Security Officer," Wood replied, though Laylin could tell that her pleas were strictly for regulation's sake, and not genuine.

"It's okay," he replied pleasantly, "I completely agree with the lieutenant's viewpoint. It isn't wise to trust the Tal Shiar. Those who do unfortunately tend to meet misfortune. Regardless, let me assure you, I am here as a representative of the Romulan government. We would like to join the war effort, but you see, we fear how its outcome might affect the balance of power."

"You wish to negotiate," the captain finalized, "We don't have time for this."

Laylin shrugged his shoulders, "If you say so Captain, but rest assured, the Senate won't allocate its resources if its interests aren't met. You know how politics works, and how fragile the balance of power is."

Alexis glared at the spy coldly, "You would intend to have us tip the balance in your favor."

Laylin lifted his arms, trying to allay her suspicions, "Not at all. My government is perfectly willing to negotiate. That's why they sent me, after all."

"They send a Tal Shiar agent to negotiate," Amarov stated, "Something about that strikes me as suspicious."

"I know," Wood agreed. Though she would never say it aloud in the agent's hearing, however, she also accepted that they needed Romulan help, and so she had no choice but to accept the conditions, "So be it, Laylin. We'll begin negotiations whenever you feel ready. Amarov, show him to his quarters."

"Splendid," Laylin replied as he followed Amarov out, making sure to study the internal workings of the Starship. It was quite gratifying actually, to be in the very center of the Federation's collapse. It was even more important, however, that out of their downfall would arise a new period of Romulan ascendancy.

At least that was what he had been told, and what he chose to believe.

L

The female Vorrta frowned as she read through the Fleet's progress. She was sure that Senar represented a potential ally, but it would take time to convince her of the situation's reality. Until they did, she had to be seen as an enemy. Unfortunately, they no longer had time to wait. The fleet would be through the wormhole within the next ten hours. Once that happened, they would be forced to action. She was not too pleased with this mission's progress.

"Suro," a voice interrupted her musings. She turned her attention to the speaker, a male Vorrta. Though he stood a head taller than she, the double agent noted that his presence shrank as she fixated her glance on him. Suro approved of his reaction. She had always been of the opinion that subordinates should act like subordinates in the presence of their master.

"Well?" she asked with impatience etched in her voice, "I have a ship to command and I'm not in the mood for waiting."

"But of course," he apologized, handing her a technical readout, "As per orders, I've completed my inspection of the fleet."

"Is it thorough?" she asked, taking the data from him and inspecting it herself.

"As thorough as it can be," he replied, "Though, if I may ask, what was the purpose of this assignment?"

"A fair question," she replied, setting the Readout down, "Though a fairly obvious one at that. Tell me, why have we gathered in force?"

"To make war on the Federation and its allies," he answered.

"Exactly," Suro replied, "As such, those of us in command need to know the exact condition of every individual vessel in the fleet. We need to take into account our shields, weapons batteries, propulsion systems, and a large number of less important details if wish to build formations and strategies of maximum effects."

The other Vorrta nodded in understanding, "I understand."

"Good," Suro replied, pleased that he had believed her reasoning. Of course, there was no reason why he shouldn't have. Everything she had said was technically true. Nevertheless, she planned to use this information for a somewhat different purpose, "Return to your station. I'll be spending the next few hours studying your report. If I again need your assistance, I will let you know."

She watched as he departed and then made her way to her own quarters. Section 31 had made it clear what needed to be done. This readout would give her the information she needed to derail this foolish invasion once and for all.

Was she a traitor? Suro didn't know the answer to that question. However, she was a Vorrta and she had an obligation to the Dominion. It was ironic that this responsibility was making her act against the Founders but she was able to see past their own misconceptions and focus on the future instead. The Dominion had already been defeated once and their current invasion would only serve to destabilize everything that they still possessed. This second campaign would only act as a drain of manpower and resources. The only thing that could truly come out of it was the Dominion's own destruction.

L

Thltarra was patient as he sat in the shuttle, his eyes closed. He did not quite enjoy his stay as a Klingon. They were too barbaric. Though his people were more than willing to resort to war, they did so in the pursuit of a higher ideal. They did not fight just for the sake of fighting. The very notion of a Klingon Warrior had filled him with disgust. However, his time there had served a very useful purpose, and he now had somewhat thorough insight into his enemies' overall defense strategy.

The Infiltrator calmly stayed seated while the vessel flew onward, his mind focusing on other things. Maintaining a telepathic link with Thltarra's flagship was difficult business. The mental stress involved had left more than a few unfortunate spies comatose. Nevertheless, he had his responsibilities to the Council and to the fleet. He was Thvrar's successor after all.

In his hand, he held a data storing device. It was one of the few things he possessed of Teraknaar design. Nevertheless, it was a very important strategic piece of technology. Quickly, he accessed the saved information containing the entirety of Federation/Klingon defense strategy. Teraknaar technology tended to utilize its users' own telepathic tendencies and this device was no exception. Effortlessly, he maintained his telepathic links with both the storage device and the Fleet's flagship. Across this link flowed the entirety of his tactical intelligence. In part, he hoped to return to the Klingon Empire in the next few months. He really wanted to be there when it fell.

It took a few minutes to complete the transfer but when it did, he promptly cut the link and deactivated the storage device. Leaning back in the chair, he took several deep breaths as he recovered from the experience. Telepathic links were not easy to maintain and he had never been one of the Infiltration's strongest telepaths. Thltarra frowned as he leaned back into his chair, exhausted.

He looked out into space, thankful to finally be leaving the Klingon Empire. He had studied much about the Romulan Empire and it seemed a pretty respectable institution. Very controlled, very ordered. The antithesis of the Klingon. They had offered the Teraknaar an alliance of sorts and he, for one, was willing to grant it. True, he could tell that their decision was based in their own self interest, and betrayal was a factor that could arise at anytime. Still, the Teraknaar were not after complete destruction and he, for one, believed the Romulans could make useful subordinates.

And if they did decide to betray Andromeda's masters, they would face utter annihilation as their only reward.

The transport ship carrying the current leader of the Infiltration cut through subspace as it accelerated on its course towards Romulus.

L

Colonel Kira Nerys stepped onto the Promenade, bustling with as much activity as it had in the days before the Dominion War. It had appeared that the Peace Conference had done much more than to merely address interquadrantial relations and the threat of Teraknaar invasion. The historic undertones of the moment seemed to resurrect Deep Space Nine's status as a center of civilian travel. Ironic, she thought. The very moment that had led to the station's economic resurgence also revealed a threat that could leave it conquered and destroyed. It was a troubling thought and she figured that the Promenade's business owners and traders might as well enjoy this moment as it was. Because she had a feeling it couldn't last much longer.

She turned the corner and stepped into one of the restaurants. Quark's Place was one of the oldest establishments of the station. It had thrived during the Occupation, survived the Dominion War, and she had a feeling that its owner wouldn't let the upcoming war discourage him either. Profit was all that dominated a Ferengei's mind and they very rarely took exception to trading partners.

"Colonel Nerys," Quark stated as he caught her out of the corner of his eye, "You know, it's always a pleasure to see you frequent my establishment."

"Quark," Kira replied, watching as the Ferengei barkeep moved his way forward through the crowd, "I can see you're thriving right now."

"I must say, the last month has been good to me," he replied, "That Peace Conference was a good idea."

Kira stared at him, not surprised but still dismayed at his greed, "Tell me you're not looking at it from an economic standpoint."

"Why not?" he replied innocently, "You got what you wanted, I got what I wanted. You know, I'm quite happy that we were able to strengthen relations between all of the different species that dominate politics but, well, who am I to complain if I personally profit from it as well?"

Kira shook her head, "Defend it however you want."

"I'm not defending it," Quark retorted, "I'm perfectly comfortable with my own appraisal of the situation. You're the one critical after all."

Kira nodded but noticed that, underneath his friendliness, there was a look of concern on the Ferengei's face, "So, what are you worried about?"

"You're hanging around Odo too much," Quark replied, "Soon you'll be able to see right through me. All right, I have a simple question. What's really going on?"

Kira paused, "What?"

"Something big's about to happen," Quark answered, "Bashir has spent the last several weeks cooped up in Sickbay, you seem to be preparing for an apocalypse and an entire fleet has assembled at the wormhole. I have my sources, Kira, and they seem to be convinced that something bloody is on its way. They don't quite know what yet, but I figure you do."

Kira nodded, "You are quite insightful, Quark."

"You didn't answer my question."

"I can't," Kira replied, "It's classified. But, if it's as bad as you think it's going to be, I would suggest that you return to Ferenginaar as fast as you can, and hope you have gone far enough."

Quark frowned, "You know I can't do that. I'd be abandoning so many patrons, and who's going to serve to their appetites?"

Kira nodded, "Then you know what your agenda is, and it doesn't really matter about the details."

Quark nodded, "If you say so but please, for old times sake, tell me one thing. What happened before the Conference, when Odo was shot?"

"A revelation," Kira replied, "I can't tell you anymore, but I would suggest you listen to my earlier advice. Run, it's most likely going to be serious."

Quark grinned, "Then you just might need my help."

Kira shook her head in doubt but, after a few moments, hesitatingly nodded, "We'll see how things play out."

L

L

A/N: Sorry for the long delay. I got discouraged by a lack of reviews and slowly lost momentum. I originally was hoping to finish the series within 3 years but I suspect it might take a bit longer considering the latest break. Still, I intend to finish it nevertheless. Thank you to those who have waited for the update and I apologize for the delay. Please Read and review.


	13. The Sirrthi

XIII: The Sirrthi

The Sirrthi truly were a wondrous people. Even millennia after their empire had been destroyed they still survived in small pocket settlements marked by a level of technology challenged only by a handful of the universe's corporeal species. Still, walking through their settlement's eerily empty streets still gave a glimmer of their previous glory. The entire city's many stunning towers and spires stood apart from the wilderness which surrounded it while at the same time, they complemented it as well. Amanda walked beneath them, staring up at them as she did so, her eyes catching a small spaceship that floated past. Though their glory days were long past, anyone foolish enough to mark them as entirely insignificant was gravely mistaken.

"Who are you?" a voice demanded from behind her. She could sense alarm and fear emanating from the stranger's psyche and so she slowly turned around, calmly appraising him as she did so. Unlike the Teraknaar, this person looked quite humanoid, though here were certain details in facial and bodily structures that differentiated them from those she had grown up with. For one thing, he was significantly taller than the average Terran, and extremely slim of build. It gave her the impression that she was staring at a living skeleton. He looked down at her, his horizontally lidded eyes studying her with interest, "You're not one of us, are you?"

She frowned. The Sirrthi were an extremely long lived species, often lasting several millennia before age overtook. There had to be a few left that remembered her, she was certain of that. Unfortunately, she could already tell that this one was young, and also relatively hostile. Such factors did not usually go well together. Not with any species.

"No," she replied, looking up at him. He seemed to back a step away, surprised at the fearlessness with which she carried herself. The Sirrthi, like the Teraknaar, were a telepathic people, and what really set him at edge was the fact that he couldn't read anything from her. She smiled pleasantly as she added, "But I know who you are and I am certain that, deep down, you know who I am."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, swiftly regaining his composure. She was impressed. Even after their civilization had collapsed, his people still had a sense of pride and confidence. Deep down, however, he was still nervous, and, despite his own telepathy, he did not have the ability to hide his thoughts from her.

"Don't worry," she reassured him, "I'm not a threat. I need to speak with this planet's Overseer."

"Perhaps you don't know this because you're not from this planet, but a person doesn't just speak with the Overseer."

"He'll make an exception," she replied, her patience depleting rapidly, "He and I go way back."

"You make a lot of claims," he replied, his arms crossed. He was not used to being at a disadvantage and it was intimidating him. His response to these unfamiliar circumstances was an unusual level of hostility. Amanda sighed. It was best to just explain things before they got out of hand.

"I'll tell you a story," she replied, leaning back against one of the buildings and looking skyward. Her expression turned distant as she recounted a distant memory, "I'm sure you've heard it several times before. See, once there was a civilization that was extremely, extremely advanced. At its height, its dominion extended across several galaxies. Every challenge was conquered, every threat annihilated. They held terrible power, and were both feared and loved throughout their domain.

"They were also great experimenters, constantly pushing the boundaries of their possibilities. They mastered miracles and, in their ever expanding quest for knowledge, they unknowingly caught the interest of an entity far more powerful than themselves. Like them, it sought to increase its own knowledge, and wished to see for itself how such a proud people would respond to its own annihilation. Whether it was out of spite or a sadistic curiosity they couldn't really know. Nevertheless, it made its appearance on their home world, where it prophesized their doom. And then it began its own experiment. Over the accumulated centuries, planet after planet, system after system and galaxy after galaxy fell. They pulled back their forces, and focused all their resources towards trying to destroy this creature, but they were outmatched and overpowered. Their empire was destroyed and it appeared that their very survival was too.

"Do you know what happened next? They were rescued. Admittedly, it was a bit too late for them but, in her defense, their rescuer was still new to her abilities, and did not yet have full mastery over her powers. Even more importantly, the other members of her people were intent on limiting the gravity that her actions might have on the overall time stream. For a people that could completely rewrite the fundamental structure of the varying universes, it was an understandable, if still regrettable, precept. Though limited, she did all she could, and confronted the experimenter. Just like his victims, he found himself powerless against her and was forced to withdraw. She had saved the Sirrthi and, though it was too late for their empire, their species lives on. There are still a few among them who remember the horrors inflicted by the Nagilum as well as the mysterious alien who conquered him."

"How do you know the story of our downfall?" he asked, suspicion, fear and potential worship all intermingling in his eyes. Though he wasn't ready to consciously admit it, he was beginning to put the details of her story together. He was beginning to realize who it was he was speaking with.

"I was there," she answered, "Admittedly it's been some time since I last visited your people, but I'm fairly certain that your Overseer would remember me. Now, considering what your civilization owes me for its survival, I'm pretty certain he'd make an exception, wouldn't you?"

The Sirrthi fixated her with a dangerous glare. He was refusing to believe his story. She sighed, hoping she wouldn't need to provide some kind of proof to validate her story. She wasn't entirely enthused with theatrics and hoped that circumstances wouldn't force her to provide them.

"How do I know you tell the truth?" he asked in a toxic tone of voice.

"You don't," Amanda replied, "Still, there is only one way you can be sure. Either humor me for the moment, or force my hand. If you choose the second option, you risk gaining the enmity of a being powerful enough to destroy your entire civilization with a thought. If you choose the first, you assume no risk whatsoever. I leave the choice up to you."

The Sirrthi paused, thinking her ultimatum over for a few moments. For a moment, he considered contesting it but, noting the growing exasperation present in her body language, wisely refrained from the temptation. He finally relented, "I will show you to the Overseer then. If we find out you are lying, however, you can be certain that the consequences will be dire."

"That's acceptable," Amanda replied, pleased with the outcome. If worst came to worst, she could have just seized the information directly from his mind, but she had never been entirely comfortable with such tactics. She tended to avoid using her active telepathy when she didn't need it.

L

The two stepped out of the city and into the forests beyond, Amanda following her guide as he led her farther and farther away from the settlement. Anyone outside the Continuum may have found it ironic: a Q relying on a mortal for information. However, such a simple summarization would have missed the point entirely. The Continuum's politics had severely limited her freedom of action. This pertained not only to the humans, but the Sirrthi as well. Of course, the fact that there were still those among them who remembered her face helped her greatly. Nevertheless, she doubted the Q in general, and especially the other faction, would have been pleased had she teleported into the Overseer's Office and started making demands. No, she had to remain relatively inconspicuous. The stakes were too high for any mistakes.

She followed her guide deeper into the wilds, still considering her current venture. It probably would have failed miserably had she not been human form. She had been fortunate that, in this respect, the Continuum's stipulations were in her own favor. After all, she traveled the corporeal universes in this form quite regularly. In some respects, it had become a part of her personal identity, and even the Q were hesitant to strip her of that. Politics were inherently complicated but, from time to time, they did turn her way as well. Nevertheless, she had to keep it her victory in context. She still had a lot of work to do, and she had to accomplish much under almost continual oversight.

"You seem pretty predisposed," her guide observed, "I must admit, you aren't exactly what I expected."

"Really?" she replied pleasantly, "In what areas do I disappoint?"

The Sirrthi scoffed at her question, "The records stated that you possessed of seemingly inexplicable and unlimited power and intelligence. To us, it seemed as if we were looking at what we would conceive of as a god. The fact that you are asking me to explain my thoughts is an example of exactly what it is that doesn't add up."

"I see," she answered, "Well, I must admit, your argument is one that I've heard on occasion several times before. It's quite silly, actually."

"Really?" her Guide asked, "And how so?"

"If I acted as you would expect, with all the flash and all the fire works that go with it, I would, in essence, be subordinating myself to mere mortals. Now, what kind of higher life form would I be if I gave in to such temptation? I don't use my full abilities lightly. I neither need nor do I particularly desire to."

"And why is that?"

"Because," she answered in a thoroughly haunted tone, staring into her surroundings, "I have the capacity within me to change the very foundations of reality. As you said, I can do anything and everything you can possibly conceive of, and that is just a beginning for my full potential. However, whenever one starts manipulating the totality of existence, it looses some of its luster. If I were to change reality too much, it would cease being real."

"You speak from personal experience," her Guide stated, his mannerisms suddenly a lot more respectful. Her answer had provided some of the understanding which he demanded and, though he could not truly understand everything she was trying to say, he could conceptualize enough to recognize that she was much more knowledgeable about the universe's workings than he was.

"Yes," she replied but didn't elaborate on the thought, "However, there are more important things to focus on at the moment."

"The Overseer."

Amanda nodded, "Exactly."

L

After several hours, the two came to an extensive clearing in the center of the woodlands. There, the two travelers stopped, and the Sirrthi leaned back against a thick tree that stood in the center of the area. It was the only tree present for several square miles.

"We're here," he stated, closing his eyes, "For your sake, I hope you are who you say you are."

"You need not worry for my sake," Amanda replied.

"Excellent," her guide stated and, an instant later, the Q noticed reality begin to warp. This phenomenon was centered in the very heart of the clearing, in the relative location of the tree. At least it had been a tree. Now it was an abyssal hole tearing through space. She was quite impressed. Amanda had clearly underestimated Sirrthi self preservation.

"Spectacular," Amanda noted, "Cutting a tear directly into subspace can be a pretty difficult task but retaining control of such an effect is even more dangerous. I can see how your people gained their reputation."

"I'm glad you approve. The city we met in exists merely for defensive purposes, prepared in case of some unforeseen catastrophe. No, our real settlements exist within the fabric of subspace itself."

Amanda frowned, "Your people still walk a dangerous line. Some extremely powerful species make their home within the confines subspace, many of them more advanced than your own. Permanent residence here might be seen as an affront."

"We recognize the risk. That's why we built the city."

"You're overconfident," she observed critically, "It destroyed you once and it might still destroy you again."

"There's a risk to progress. Shall we go?"

"But of course, lead the way."

Fearlessly, the Sirrthi and the Q stepped across the threshold and, in an instant, the planet was gone. They were standing in a dark abyss, or at least what should have been a dark abyss. In the center of the nothingness, however, was a glorious city whose multifaceted spirals seemed to pierce the nothingness, revealing a beauty quite alien to its dimension. It was a stunning sight, a silver blade which cut into the dark emptiness of this dimension. Even as a Q, Amanda found the sight impressive. As a human, she found it awe inspiring.

"Your kind is as full of surprises as ever," Amanda replied as the two stepped into the city.

"But of course," her guide replied, "By the way, if I may ask, why exactly do you wish to see the Overseer?"

Amanda frowned, "The Overseer holds much influence over your people, am I correct?"

The other looked her over doubtfully, "You're the one who claims to be…"

"You weren't supposed to answer it," Amanda interrupted tersely, "Your people owe me. I've come here because I need them to repay the favor."

"This time you're the powerless one?"

"More or less…"

"Well then, let's not keep him waiting," She nodded and, in a few moments, they stood before a vast, palatial structure which she recognized from her previous time on the planet. She stepped into it and, after a few minutes of wandering down its corridors, the human-born omnipotent stepped into an isolated corner room, where she found an aged Sirrthi whose mental patterns she instantly recognized.

"It's been a while," she intoned, leaning back against a wall, arms crossed studying him.

It seemed he recognized her, for at the sound of her voice he turned around, his eyes wide with disbelief. He regained his composure, however, and merely bowed respectfully, "It has been. I see the years have not affected you as they have me."

"My people stand outside the boundaries of time," she explained, "Nevertheless, though I look the same, like you, I too have changed since our last meeting."

He laughed, "Forgive me for doubting you, but you hardly look it."

She shrugged, "My people are immortal, not unchanging. Still, I did not quite come here for small talk."

"I would expect not," he answered, "Still, much has changed since last you visited. Did you know that, in the centuries since, a good number of us have begun to view you as some sort of god?"

"You'd disagree with them, I bet," she answered.

"As you well know, I never was one to believe in First Causes. Still, I'll warrant that you may be the closest thing to a god that I've ever met, probably the closest that there is. Nevertheless, I suspect we are straying from the purpose of our conversation. Tell me, then, why, after all these centuries, do you come back here?"

"I came because I needed a favor."

"Yes, I see. Still, it strikes me as surprising. You know what you, yourself, are capable of and I know that what I have seen of your power far outstrips anything my kind can even imagine. Why then would you need a favor of us?"

She answered with a single word: "politics."

"Ah, now I begin to understand. You're not the only omnipotent are you? And the others oppose you…"

She smiled, "You're as perceptive as ever…"

He grinned, "I've led this settlement for centuries. I'd better be. Still, as I said before, there is a reason some among us are inclined to call you goddess, and for that we owe you much. Tell me what it is you require and I'll see that it is yours."

She nodded, "Thank you, Overseer. At the moment, however, all I require is your aid in the time to come."

"Then you shall have it."

She nodded and gave him her thanks, before vanishing in a flash of light. The Overseer watched her disappear and shook his head. There was a time when he sought to find out how exactly she did that but he had long since abandoned the attempt. Trying to understand her kind; you might as well ask an insect to explain space flight. 

Soon, he would have to report this latest turn of events to his people. She had returned and was asking for his help. The Sirrthi had been in hiding, rebuilding for centuries, but he suspected that that period was over. Soon, they may very possibly reenter the field of intergalactic politics. If they do, he could only hope that it would end better this time than it had the last.


	14. Invasion

XIV: Invasion

XIV: Invasion

It was swift, it was rapid and it was decisive. The explosives had been set at key weaknesses throughout the fleet but the decision was Suro's concerning when she was to detonate them. She chose the single moment that would most decisively derail the invasion. She chose the moment after which the fleet had passed through the wormhole. She chose the exact moment during which it became too late to fall back and await reinforcements.

Victory turned into defeat in a single explosive moment. The Dominion ships had been packed relatively closely, a strategic decision that had proved decisive. The Founders had hoped to use their formation to punch right through Federation defenses. Instead, it left the bulk of the fleet vulnerable to her explosives: as one ship exploded its neighbors suffered damages as well.

In that one moment, confidence gave way to confusion and the fleet wavered. The defenders, recognizing the Dominion's bellicose intentions, quickly exploited the resultant moment of hesitation, and moved to surround the damaged fleet. Combined Klingon and Federation firepower savaged Jem Hadar warships while their stunned crews could do little to respond. Swiftly the one proud fleet found itself being decimated. Very quickly, thoughts of victory had been replaced by desperation and a desire to escape. It was at that moment that the fleet dispersed, taking flight. Many were destroyed but many more were able to escape pursuit. Most returned through the wormhole but a few escaped safely into the Alpha Quadrant.

Viran's was just one among them and even with the feet destroyed, however, the Vorta commander was still intent to carry over his crusade against the Federation. He had not yet gotten his revenge and, despite having only a single ship left to him, he was more than eager to try for it.

L

Kira had been at ops when the Dominion punched through. Even hours after the battle had been won, she still recalled that one initial moment. Seeing the Dominion in full force had been enough to send a chill down her spine. Kira and her allies had been lucky. She hated to admit it but it was true. If not for those explosions, the Dominion would have overwhelmed them. They could have easily taken over a significant part of the Alpha Quadrant and possibly, in time, all of it. Something went wrong in their plan though, and what should have been a rout became a catastrophe. Kira frowned as she tried to piece together what had happened. It did not seem to fit in with the Teraknaar's agenda. If anything, they were probably behind the invasion in the first place. It would have left both sides weakened. So, if not their potential conquerors, who was behind this?

"Section 31," Julian Bashir's voice cut into her ponderings and immediately things began to fall into place. How they were able to accomplish such a feat she couldn't even begin to understand but, if anyone had the ability and the desire to carry out such an endeavor, it most certainly had to be them.

Kira looked up towards the room's other occupants: Bashir, Dax, Sorrenson and Odo. They had gathered to try to make sense of what had just happened and consider what to do next. Cardassian and Klingon officers would be arriving over the next few days as well to try to make sense of this newest turn of events. They were at war with the Dominion once again and, though the initial attack had gone badly, a fair number of ships had escaped their pursuit.

"Section 31? I hoped we had seen the last of them long ago," Ezri thought aloud, both surprised and troubled at the return of their longtime nemesis.

"Excuse me," the Security Officer interrupted, trying to follow the conversation, "But what's Section 31?"

The Bajoran colonel sighed as she considered his question. As the station's security chief, he probably had a right to know about any potential threats and, if their suspicions were true, Starfleet's rogue agency clearly registered as a dangerous one. When he had been assigned to the station, they had decided to keep this knowledge on a need to know basis. Considering the ruthlessness that had been shown by Sloan and his associates in the past, she had considered it a necessary precaution. However, these were special circumstances and so, without hesitation, she decided to fill him in.

"Lieutenant Sorrenson, Section 31 is one of the most closely guarded secrets that the Federation possesses. It answers to itself to deal with matters in which it suspects Starfleet Intelligence alone would not suffice. Its operatives have proved themselves to be extremely cunning and ruthless. Murder, torture and manipulation all fall within its modus-operandi."

Sorrenson nodded, "I think I get the picture. How do you know they're involved?"

"We can't be certain of their involvement," Kira admitted.

"Actually, we almost certainly can," Bashir interrupted, "I was approached by one of their Operatives several weeks ago. She seemed to be extremely knowledgeable about the Dominion. I suspect that this makes them our primary witness…"

"Wait a minute," Odo intoned, "Are you saying that you were actually contacted by a member of Section 31? And you didn't tell anyone?"

"Look, I know that, in retrospect, I made a mistake…"

"That's one way to put it," the Founder interrupted harshly.

"But at the time…"

"Doctor," Kira interrupted, "I'm not asking for excuses. Still, I'll be expecting a very thorough report on your past activities. Rest assured: we'll get to the bottom of things."

"Yes sir," Julian replied defeated, "Which raises the question, what do we do next?"

"Unfortunately, that's the question that we've gathered here to answer."

L

Thltarra was silent as the news of the Dominion's failed invasion came to him. Concerned, he considered the implications of the unexpected setback. He had been counting on it regressing into a drawn out war of attrition but, instead, it had been settled in a single battle. The Alpha Quadrant had come out of the struggle more unified and confident then ever. Even the Romulans considered switching their allegiance to the Alpha Quadrant. He frowned as he considered his next move.

He didn't want to end up like Thvrar after all: captured and unaccounted for. Nevertheless, if he played things right, he suspected that he still might be able to turn the situation to his own advantage. First, however, he'd have to get in touch with Thvrada. Their opening strike may have been demolished but he suspected that some of its poison still lingered in the Quadrant.

Thltarra was intent on turning every possible factor to his advantage. He relegated his future actions to the back of his mind, however, and focused instead on the issue at hand: the Romulan Senate. While they had initially agreed to an alliance, their enemies' recent victory was starting to make them second guess their commitments. He had to deal with them immediately, and he was determined to do just that.

The Infiltrator showed the senators a look of bitter distaste as he responded to their insecurities, "I see the Romulans aren't undeserving of their reputation as devious. You seek to backstab the Teraknaar. Am I correct?"

"You made promises," a second Romulan stated.

"Laylin made promises," Thltarra specified, "But the details are not important. Yes, we did make a promise. We promised to conquer the Alpha Quadrant, leaving you to govern it. However, to prove yourself worthy of our trust, you must prove your loyalty to the Sacred Order of the Council."

"Exactly: you promised the destruction of our enemies. Yet they have survived, as strong as ever."

Thltarra smiled grimly, "Yes, we did promise to destroy the Federation and its allies. Tell me, though, concerning the battle they just won, who did they defeat?"

Thltarra was pleased that he made his point and so, without further elaboration, he made his point, "Gentlemen, my people haven't even made their move yet. Rest assured, when we do, you'll find yourselves very much on the right side of the conflict. You have a choice, comrades. You can either aid us or defy us. There can be no neutrality in a war for order. I leave the choice with you. Decide wisely."

Having made his statement, Thltarra turned his back to an outraged and bellicose Senate. Though they were not pleased, he was confident that they recognized the truth of his words and would fall back in line soon enough. He had other details to deal with though.

As he stepped out of the Senate Building, he considered how best to phrase his request. Thvrada was a very proud Shipmaster. He would not easily agree to relinquish command of an average sized squadron of Probe Ships. First, however, he contacted one of his own agents and handed him a very simple message: a set of coordinates and the instructions to, by any means necessary, bring a certain survivor to that location. The war had been snuffed out but he could still salvage something out of the situation. He intended to.

L

The remnants of the Dominion's Invasion Fleet had scattered and small vessels were traversing the Alpha Quadrant, most merely trying to remain undetected in order to eventually escape back to the Gamma Quadrant. There were several ships, including Suro's own, that had already passed through the wormhole in an attempt to bring a potential catastrophe to rest. However, there was one noteworthy exception to this pattern.

Viran stared into space as he considered his next move. Things had not gone quite as he had intended. The Dominion had been outsmarted and its incursion derailed. Nevertheless, he had to go on with he had started. The Federation and its allies may have successfully destroyed the fleet, but they had not been able to eliminate him. He was certain that they would regret that mistake.

Though the Dominion's Campaign had come to a premature end, his was just beginning. Viran continued to study space, Federation space, as he considered how it was that he would terrorize it.

Elsewhere in this vessel, Senar considered Viran's decision. She knew that his plan was tantamount to madness. However, he was correct about one thing. The Federation had destroyed the Founders and her dead gods demanded vengeance.


End file.
